


Shadows

by Legume_Shadow



Series: Legends of the Revolution [34]
Category: Peacemaker Kurogane, Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, BAMFs, Flashbacks, Gen, Huge Cast Listing, Post-Jinchuu Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 146,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legume_Shadow/pseuds/Legume_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the country still recovering from Kitamura Suzu's crippling blow, something sinister has surfaced from the shadows.  As Kenshin, Tetsu, and the others find themselves slowly drawn into the maelstrom of this new threat, revelations about the past before the start of the Meiji Revolution will be told that will change the future and fate of the country.</p><p>This is a sequel to Rurouni Kenshin/Peacemaker Kurogane: Remnants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First Publishing: April 2015, AO3  
> Disclaimer: All characters (except for the ones created by me) belong to their respective owners. No profit is being made from this work of fiction.
> 
> Note: This is the final fic to the Legends of the Revolution series. It is highly suggested that readers of this fic be acquainted with all other stories in the series, as there will be many references to events from the Whispers series, Echoes series, and Remnants.

**Chapter 1**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

_Otsu..._

 

_[Tetsu: I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health. I know that we haven't talked much about what happened all those years ago, and even though I've already apologized to you, I wanted to say it again. I am sorry. My wife and I will be gone for a few months, so if you don't hear from us for a while, don't panic. When we return, I hope that maybe, we can finally sit down and have that discussion you wanted. Thanks for understanding._

_\--Tatsunosuke]_

 

“Dear,” the soft, melodic voice of Ichimura Tatsunosuke's wife called out to him as he looked up from applying his signature to the short letter. To any other person, it would be indecipherable and look like a friendly missive. To his brother, he knew that his brother knew what his usual tone in letters were – it would be a signal for help. It was already too late for them to go to the police.

Ever since leaving Otsu months ago after hearing of what happened to his brother and family in Kyoto, it was only a matter of time before the organization that hunted both he and his wife since before the end of the revolution, found them. Katsura Kogoro was the only other person who had an inkling of why they were being hunted and had successfully hid them, but only for a time. Now though, time and luck had finally run out.

The intricately built lock box that contained the information he had been keeping close to him since the death of Sakamoto Ryouma, had already been sent away only a day ago with a rider that he personally trusted. That lock box would be headed to Tokyo, to a certain person he knew would take the letter accompanying the lock box with all seriousness and protect it. They key to the lock box would be taken by the organization – he dared not send it to Tetsu and involve him too deeply in the lock box mess. It was the only way he knew how to keep the information safe – the key and the lock box would never meet, for he knew that the person who would receive the lock box would keep it safe and away from prying eyes. Tetsu would understand the letter and hopefully ask friends within the Oniwabanshuu to find him, Tatsu, and his wife.

“Please keep this on you,” he said, handing over the folded letter, to his wife. “They will most likely not hurt you and find it intact. Hopefully, they will have enough mercy to actually send it down to my brother. If they do not, tell them that the letter contains a note for him to not panic if he does not receive any letters from us for the next few months.”

His wife nodded, and though he knew that she was afraid, she did not show it in her movements. He too was afraid of what the future held, but after everything they had worked for and been though, being captured by the organization who had hunted down and successfully assassinated Sakamoto, was not as terrible as what the information the box contained.

By sending the lock box away, it would ensure that he had at least some leverage to negotiate with and possibly undermine the shadowy organization... enough that perhaps the box would never be open and that the new government would be able to find the organization and usher in their own destiny. It was as one of the Englishmen he had conversed with before, saying ,'a long shot', but one that he and his wife were willing to risk and take.

“Hanako,” he said, standing up and approached his wife who turned and looked at him with sorrowful eyes. “No...” he said, shaking his head at the whisper of denial as he heard several heavy footsteps approach not only the door but all around the hut. “I cannot keep calling you that name, not with what is about to happen. I do want to thank you, though, for everything... Oryou.”

* * *

_Deep in the forests of Arashiyama..._

 

The crackling of the logs in the kiln burned merrily as they sucked up as much air as possible, heating the interior of the oven so that the clay bowls and cups inside would be sufficiently cooked. Staring into the small oven door of the kiln that showcased the hypnotic flames dancing around, the 13th master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu sat so still, it was as if he were a statue. However, it was the very occasional sip of the sake he took from the jug that sat beside him that showed some movements, but only so. While most other potters would be hard at work, making another batch of ceramic ware while their first batch was cooking, Hiko Seijurou was an exception to the norm.

He made only enough to sell at a time, to buy only what he needed and nothing more to survive. Some of the time, he would exchange some wares for jugs of sake, but it was always his habit to stare into the flames that burned while drinking. It helped calm his mind and helped him keep his own demons at bay, along with a past he cared to forget.

So when the snap of twigs and brambles echoed through the clearing, bringing a stranger whose presence he did not recognize at all, he merely turned slightly on the log he was sitting on, from his reverie and placed the sake jug back down. Glancing back, he saw that the stranger was just a young man with short hair that looked a bit scraggly at the ends. A satchel was slung across the young man's back, though the color of the satchel contrasted with the multiple shades of blue clothing he was wearing. There was a polite but slightly apprehensive look on the young man's face, and though the young man was clearly unarmed, Hiko was still on guard. Under the layers of passivity, he had sensed and clearly felt a very strong swordsman's spirit within the young man.

“Hiko Seijuurou?” he heard the young man tentatively ask.

Hiko remained silent and did not move from where he was. His apprentice, Kenshin, had told him that he had found him via the Oniwabanshuu, but after meeting the clandestine group, he knew that the group would never give out his name or where he lived without a care. The fact that this young man had questioned his name told him that it had not been the spy group who had revealed his name to people, but that this young man had heard of his name from other sources.

Despite being such an idiot apprentice, he knew that Kenshin would not send anyone to him, knowing that he preferred his isolated life up here. That left only one other group of people who knew where he was and who he was. He could only conclude with some certainty that this particular young man standing at the edge of the clearing had dealings or was a part of the organization. Given with just how strong of a _ken-ki_ this young man possessed, he was becoming quite sure that the organization had sent him... and the fact that the young man was not flinching or scuttling away in fear the longer he held his imperious gaze at him.

“I need your help,” the young man said.

“Go away, brat,” he immediately said. “Go back to your masters and tell them that I will not renegotiate the terms of our agreement. I will not help them or you.”

“I am not a part of that organization anymore, Hiko-sensei,” the young man said.

Hiko nearly snorted out loud at just how polite the young man had in terms of speech patterns. While not as humbling as Kenshin, it certainly had qualities and the same tone as his idiot apprentice had spoken in. “Go away,” he repeated. “I am a simple potter. What the world has done this time does not concern me.”

“I will do as you ask, if you answer this one question for me, please,” the young man stated.

Hiko stared at the young man, before inclining his head slightly; he would do anything to get rid of this young man and the stench of the organization the young man claimed not to be a part of. He wanted to go back to his insular life as soon as possible and forget about this incident.

“Many years ago, you served masters who directed you and the 12th master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu,” the young man said. “After killing your master and assuming his name, you went on a two-year rampage to purge as many of the organization's assets as possible. You had them at your mercy – you could have stopped their machinations forever, Hiko-sensei. Why did you stop?”

Hiko felt his blood run cold. There were very few people left alive from that time in history who knew what he had done. He could tell from the young man's tone that the young man knew more than he was letting on, and he knew that only three people could have told the young man what had happened. He was a blemish on the history of the organization, someone that they wanted to forget what had been done, and someone they were content on leaving alone as to not incur his wrath again. Those negotiations he had with one of the representatives all those years ago had ensured that.

He wanted to answer that it was none of the young man's business as to why he had stopped his massacre, for it was even something he had never told Kenshin about – straying just a little further from the truth to tell Kenshin that he had murdered many people before. That had been his past, and his isolation on this mountain, dedicating his sword and life to save travelers, farmers, and passerbys from harassment and attacks being his atonement. Falling into further obscurity in this new era satisfied him even more, and with luck, he would die without his name ever being known in history.

“Who are you, brat?” he asked instead, narrowing his eyes as he turned on his log seat so that he was completely facing the young man.

“Seta Soujirou,” the young man answered, spreading his hands and arms out, as if showing him that he was clearly unarmed.

“Seta,” Hiko stated, clenching his hands. “That's how you heard of me then, didn't you, brat?”

“My mother is Seta Yuna,” the young man said, nodding slightly. “She found me a little over a year ago after I parted ways with Shishio Makoto, but I left her and the organization four months ago.”

“Why?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. He had only received a very short explanation from the head of the Oniwabanshuu with regards to who exactly Kenshin was fighting against last summer. However short that explanation was, it made his distaste for getting involved in the politics and machinations of men down below the mountain ever more prominent. Had it not been for Kenshin's bullheadedness all those years ago, then the future would not have had to come bite his idiot apprentice. Shishio Makoto had managed to gather ten dangerous men, and the fact that one of those ten was standing before him told him that this young man was smarter than the others.

“Their path and what they had planned for the protection of the country was not the path I was seeking,” Seta answered.

Hiko gave a bark of bitter laughter. “You are an idiot,” he bluntly stated. At the young man's frown, he continued to say, “Whatever help you thought you would seek from me will not be given. Go away.”

“In truth, I do not actually seek your help, Hiko-sensei,” the young man answered with what looked like a genial smile on his face. “I came merely to warn you that the organization is in the midst of recruiting again. Though they no longer have a fortified presence here, I have heard that they may have some activities near Tokyo.”

“They will not involve that idiotic apprentice of mine,” he stated with confidence. “Your _mother_ ,” he sneered at the word, “would have let every person know of the arrangement that was negotiated. My answer is the same. I do not walk that path anymore. You are own your own.”

There was a moment's hesitation, but the falsified smile on the young man's face never faltered as he sketched a bow before saying, “Then I thank you for your time.” A moment later, Seta turned and left, and with each step that carried the young man out of the clearing and back into the woods, Hiko felt his frown grow deeper and deeper.

Even after he could no longer hear the rustle of the young man's movements through bushes fade, the sake that he had been sipping remained untouched as he stared at the entrance to the clearing, lost in thought. Though he was not privy to everything that had happened in Kyoto below, what he heard from passerbys had him wondering why on earth the organization would be openly recruiting in such an exposed environment. It didn't make sense. It was as if they were _trying_ to invite disaster upon themselves.

He was not sympathetic to the organization, but he could not help but feel that what the young man told him – even though Seta Soujirou seemed to sincerely believe in it – was a ruse. Something was happening, and damn his former apprentice for getting him involved last year with that fight at the Aoiya; he now felt a sliver of _concern_. The agreement would still be honored, that he was quire sure of, but knowing Kenshin; that idiot, even with a pregnant wife, would somehow get involved.

Placing the sake cup and jug down, he got up and strode into his hut. In the dusty corner of the hut sat a chest and with an awful creak and crack of wood that had not been parted from each other for many long years, the chest was thrown open. In the middle of it sat a still-polished looking scabbard that was unusual itself: the scabbard was squarish and white with inlaid gold edgings, and designed to look like it had been sectioned off into nine rectangular blocks. The hilt was wrapped in black and gold, and the guard of the blade had two artfully etched golden dragons with small ruby-stoned eyes on either side.

Hiko hesitated for a moment before picking up the ensemble. He didn't even need to unsheathe the blade to know that it was still sharp – it had not been touched since he had signed that truce with the organization many years ago. Blades such as the one he had used to train Kenshin when he had been younger and after he had returned to complete his studies easily broke after two or three applications of the more powerful forms of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu.

Indeed, after he had passed on Kuzuryuusen, the sword that he had been using had finally shattered before he had left to go protect the Aoiya. The sword that he had used against the giant of a man, Fuji, had also shattered after a few days, unable to cope with the aftermath of the stress that had been placed on it, even though he had tried to limit just how much power flowed through from him and into the blade to be delivered into the giant.

This though, this sheathed blade in his hand, was the only blade in existence that was able to withstand the **full** power of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. Tightening his fist around the scabbard of the blade, he briefly closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and slid the blade into its proper place by his left side. Closing the trunk, the then went about the place, dousing the fire and swept his mantle up onto his shoulders.

Going outside, he secured the rest of the clayware and doused the kiln with a rather large amount of water from the well. It was a loss, but he was not concerned. As soon as all fires were extinguished, he set off towards the east. Before the entire mess of a bloody affair had happened and the death of his master, he head heard of a family that the organization had been trying to recruit – the Ichimura family. They had originally done a one-time favor for the organization, and in exchange, the organization had promised to leave them alone. However, new leadership had taken over after that promise had been extracted and the organization had decided to negate the promise. The head of the family was an accomplished 'linguist' and had valuable diplomatic ties with Dutch foreigners down in Nagasaki. He knew not the full reason why the organization was trying to recruit such a person, only that they were going about the recruitment by 'soft' methods.

After his break from the organization, he had not heard of the family until Kenshin and his wife had visited him during the summer and told him about their new found extended family. As he had listened to his apprentice describe a few things about his extended family, he realized that the Ichimura brothers were of the same Ichimura family that the organization had been trying to recruit. It seemed that the organization had all but given up on trying to recruit any person from the Ichimura family.

He knew that the organization had eyes and ears everywhere, so to not draw attention to himself, he would head towards Otsu, the last known location of one of the Ichimura brothers. If Ichimura Tatsunosuke possessed 'linguistic' skills that the organization was trying to acquire, he needed those skills.

There was a lock box that his master had given to a family in Tosa named Sakamoto, though he was not sure of the current location of the lock box, since years ago, a man claiming to be part of the Sakamoto family had taken the spare key from him. It contained items that he would need Ichimura to 'translate' to ensure that _if_ Kenshin happened to get involved as young Seta Soujirou had stated might happen, it would keep his apprentice from being condemned by the government. He knew that Kenshin might have been and probably still was in the good graces of the country's government, but if the idiot jumped head long into any type of involvement against the organization, there would be more than hell to pay.

There were just too many unspeakable things that Hiko Seijuurou, thirteenth master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, had done in the past that he did not want his apprentice to find out about.

* * *

_Year: Past, Summer 1865_

 

_During the Assassins storyline from Echoes..._

 

Stumbling out of the flower house with only a grace that could be defined as slightly drunk, Tatsu managed to not even bump into a patron as he took a few tentative steps down the road. A part of him hoped that it was the correct direction to go, but he really couldn't care – everything around him seemed so hilarious that he had forgotten why he wasn't back in the flower house, having fun with the others.

“Ah, Dragon-boy!”

With a silly grin on his face as he paused at the sound of a foreign name being said from behind him, curiosity overriding the rest of his senses. Turning slightly, he was rewarded with a hearty slap on the shoulders as a familiar man with crazy-curly hair, messily tied up in a topknot shoved his face quite close to his own. It took him a moment of just staring at the man's face, which was bespectacled with dark and round-rimmed lenses, to recognize who exactly had shouted the English translation of his name.

It was that thought, along with what he remembered had happened last time he had encountered this particular person, that sobered him up _very_ quickly. “Oh,” was all he said as he tried to extricate himself from the rebel Sakamoto Ryouma's embrace.

“Ah,” Sakamoto said, wagging a finger at him, “you're quite drunk, Dragon-boy. Here, let me help you get home safely.”

He stumbled as Sakamoto took a few steps forward, half-dragging him down the streets as he realized that though his mind was sort of clear, his body certainly had not purged the effects of imbibing alcohol yet. Worse yet, he could feel a slight headache start to creep up on him. Reluctantly, he accepted help from the rebel and slowly, the two of them made their way through the Shimabara crowds and back into the city.

“I think I'll be fine, Sakamoto-san,” he said, knowing that he was slurring his words slightly as they crossed the threshold that divided Shimabara from the rest of the city. “Thank you for your assistance, but I will be fine from here on out.”

“Nonsense, Ichimura,” Sakamoto stated, giving him a hearty laugh as he felt the man's grip on his shoulder tighten. “Your father is watching from the fields of Enma right now and he would have my hide if I didn't make sure that a son of his got home safely.”

Tatsu remained silent for a few minutes as they continued to pass by crowds who were enjoying the various summer festivals around the city. “My father never consorted with rebels such as you,” he quietly stated. “Please refrain from ever mentioning him again.”

He heard Sakamoto _tsk_ before the man said, “How little you know of the work that he has done in trying to prevent this war. Both he and I were of the same mindset, Ichimura. We did not want this--” Sakamoto gestured all around him “--war to happen at all.”

He closed his eyes at the rebel's words before forcibly turned towards an alleyway. As soon as the two of them slipped into the shadows, but with enough light to still illuminate some of their surroundings, he batted the helping arm away. Turning so that he faced Sakamoto, he folded his arms across his chest, wishing that his headache would go away. There was an open, almost expectant look on the man's face as he asked, “I already told you once before, neither my brother or I are joining your navy. What do you want?”

“Speaking of your brother,” Sakamoto said, looking around, “where is he?”

“Not here,” he bluntly answered. “What do you want?”

He saw the man sigh, rubbing his head with a hand before saying, “You two boys should really get away from the wolves--” Tatsu narrowed his eyes “--but I can see that even my words will not convince you. Still, I need your help, Ichimura.”

“Leave my brother out of it,” he said.

“I will,” Sakamoto readily agreed, surprising him. “I just hope that you have the same skills that your father had, otherwise, this is pretty much a futile endeavor.”

“Then what do you want?”

He saw Sakamoto reach into the side of his outfit and though a thrill of panic flooded him as he thought the man was pulling out the revolver, it was roughly quashed as instead, he saw a folded piece of paper being pulled out. As the man handed it over to him, he unfolded his arms and gingerly took it. Opening it, he looked over the scrawl with only the dim light from the lanterns in the main street cast upon the paper. Each phrase on the piece of paper was utter gibberish and he couldn't understand what exactly was being conveyed. It was as if someone took the Japanese language and decided to write nonsensical crap from it.

“What is this?” he asked, looking up as he folded the paper back and handed it to the rebel.

However, Sakamoto did not take it and merely sighed as he said, “It's encrypted.”

“Shogunate secrets?” he guessed, angry that he had been handed a piece of paper that could potentially get him killed. Sakamoto shook his head negative. “Ishinshishi secrets?!”

“Neither,” the man answered. “Before he died, your father was helping me with the decryption of a set of documents, one of which you now hold in your hands. Both of us believe that it was and still possibly is something that could make both sides come to the table and negotiate for peace.”

Tatsu stared at the man, stunned at the revelation. “My father?” he whispered after a few moments.

“This was one of the many reasons why many called your father 'The Peacemaker', Ichimura,” Sakamoto stated with a seriousness in the tone of his voice that did not contain the usual silliness, humor, or carefree atttitude. “Both he and I were among a group of moderates who were calling for both sides to calm down and find a way to resolve conflicts without the need to draw swords. Unfortunately, many circumstances, including your father's death at the hands of extremists, contributed to the group's demise. I thought that the documents that he had been trying to decipher were lost. I visited your home last year to pay my respects to your family and I found the documents there, untouched by the fire.”

“But he never--” he began but was cut off when Sakamoto shook his head slightly.

“The rest are in my hands, safe and hidden away for now,” the man said. “I don't know how your father deciphered some of it or if you have the same skills as your father did, but from what I do know of the documents and of what your father 'translated', it's best not to tell you more until you're sure you want to help.”

“You want me to 'translate' this?” he asked, waving the folded piece of paper slightly.

“Yes, if you can.”

Tatsu frowned. “Then how are you sure that what you gave me is safe?”

“I don't,” Sakamoto answered, shrugging. “But you aren't handing it back to me like you did a moment ago, so is it safe to assume that you want to help me?”

“No,” he stated. “I'm not helping you. I'm helping my brother by attempting to finish what my father started. I only took the accounting job with the Shinsengumi to make ends meet. I have no desire to avenge my parents, and I don't even like to be involved in this conflict. Unfortunately, my brother is as stubborn as they come and _if_ these documents contain things that could get both sides to the negotiating table, then I'll do it. I want my brother out of the Shinsengumi as soon as possible.”

A look of understanding crossed the rebel's face as he saw the man nod once, saying, “Admirable, Dragon-boy. Very admirable and I will honor that promise. When you've finished 'translating' that piece of paper, go to the stationary shop near the entrance to the Gion district on Sanjo-machi. Tell the shopkeeper 'I have found the chrysanthemum' and he will let me know. I'll make my way back into the city then.”

“Wait,” he said, holding up a hand to prevent Sakamoto from dashing off, “what was said in the documents that my father deciphered?”

“That's for next time, Dragon-boy,” the rebel answered with a smile before slipping away and into the crowds.

Tatsu sighed and took a look at the folded piece of paper in his hands, his headache seemingly getting worse the longer he stared at the paper. Damn his curiosity about Sakamoto and stories of what his father had done. He thought his father had been a farmer with supply connections in a few major cities. It was also how he had thought his father had picked up peculiar ways of interjecting foreign words into his speech. Now though, with this revelation from a person that he was wary to trust but had spoken in the same manner and speech pattern that he had heard countless of times from his father, he was sure that what occupied his father's work was not a lie. Sakamoto probably did know his father, and what he had told Sakamoto about Tetsu was true: he wanted his brother out of the Shinsengumi.

Tucking the piece of paper into the folds of his clothes, he rejoined the crowds in the streets. He would attempt to decipher the piece of paper in secret, and if it held information that would help the Shogunate, then he would turn it over to Kondou and Hijikata. If it held secrets that would help the Ishinshishi, he would give it back to Sakamoto and refuse to 'translate' anymore. However, if it truly contained items that could bring both sides together, then he would continue his work.

Father had wanted Tetsu to be a good man, to be a ' _Peacemaker_ ', but with the path that his brother was taking, Tatsu knew that the wish would never be kept. For the sake of his brother, he would take up the mantle that had been their father's and become 'The Peacemaker'.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this particular chapter was not beta'ed by my beta reader, Shadow Chaser...because I was a little too excited to post this first chapter and wait for my beta reader to clear it. Apologies if there are grammatical and spelling errors in this particular chapter. Almost all chapters after this one should be properly edited/beta'ed.
> 
> Also, yes I am well aware that Hiko Seijuurou is basically a game-breaker character...but it's enormously fun to write him and his background. His special katana is a reference/tribute to the awesome Rurouni Kenshin live-action trilogy movies.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Year: Present, Autumn, 1879_

 

Morning songbirds chirped rather happily as a cool breeze blew down the road that Yamazaki Susumu was currently traveling on. The leaves on several trees were already starting to change color and though the occasional overly hot, steaming day still graced the area, the autumnal rainy season was almost here. Constant grey clouds had saturated nighttime skies, only to disappear during the middle of the day and reappear when the sun was starting to set. There was the occasional morning shower, but nothing as intense as what Susumu expected to come during the next few weeks.

Still, rain or shine, heat or bitter cold, he would continue to make his morning rounds to check up on several patients before heading back to his clinic. Former fellow Oniwabanshuu shinobi, Takahashi Reika, was working at the clinic when he was not there, especially during the mornings when he made his house calls. Though Reika had no formal training other than what she had learned as a shinobi, he had taught her a few of the basics in proper medical care.

Still, morning house calls were not meant to take all day and he had many house calls to make before he could return to the clinic. Pausing at the entrance to the dojo, he thought he would have heard the familiar sounds of the _crack_ of a shinai against another shinai or the familiar _thwap_ of a shinai hitting armor, but there were no such sounds. Instead, he could hear the ebb and flow of the pitter-patter of feet on wooden floor. Ah, students were scrubbing the dojo floor before practice started.

Entering the small courtyard to the dojo, he announced himself, “Pardon me! It's me, Yamazaki!”

A few moments later, the door to the dojo slid open and an old and trusted comrade from back in the day stepped out with a smile on his face. “Good morning, Yamazaki-sensei,” Okita Souji said as Susumu did a quick far-visual assessment of the health of the dojo master.

“Good morning to you too, Shirou-sensei,” he answered. The name that the former Shinsengumi captain went by in this day and age was known to the students of the dojo. However, the man's actual name was only known to a select few outside of the dojo, for it was better that everyone else thought that the infamous First Unit Captain of the Shinsengumi had died during the evacuation of Edo in the Boshin War.

“It is that day again, it is not?” the dojo master asked with a slightly weary smile on his face.

“Yes,” Susumu answered, hefting up the medical bag that he was carrying. “It should be quick though.”

He saw Okita turn towards the students inside of the dojo who were almost done with the cleaning of the floor and gave them some instructions. It used to be that Susumu visited the dojo two to three times a week, but now, since circumstances had changed during the summer, he now visited once every two weeks. Though the events of the summer had caused the disease that wracked the dojo master to worsen but was still halted from being a fully debilitating and fatal disease, there were now two people who were permanent fixtures in Okita's life.

As Susumu stepped up to the walkway, leaving his sandals on the rock step edge, he followed the dojo master to a more private area. He had glanced into the dojo to see the boy that Okita had finally adopted and called 'son' enthusiastically put on his practice armor to begin sparring practice. As he looked around he noticed that the other permanent fixture in the dojo master's life, Okita's wife, was not present.

In a room as far from the dojo as possible, with the partitions slid closed, Susumu began his examination of his patient, pulling out the necessary tools he needed from the medical bag. He was careful though, to keep a separate set of tools, wrapped up in a thick layer of cloth, just to be used on Okita.

Tuberculosis was a very contagious disease and though it was through the efforts of both he and the famous Dr. Ryuujun Matsumoto who had managed to halt the progression of the disease within several patients, it was not a cure. So far, all efforts to try to cure the disease had not been successful and out of all the patients who responded well to the aggressive herbal regimen, Okita was the only patient still alive. All other patients had died a few years prior, and Susumu knew that it was only because the disease had finally fought off the effects of the herbal medication in other patients. As far as he knew, Okita knew that he himself was the only patient who responded well to the treatments, and Susumu was determined to let that thought remain. To let his patient know that others had initially survived but eventually succumbed to the disease would only create depressingly negative feelings within his patient. He didn't have the heart to do that to a man he greatly respected.

“I noticed that Aya isn't here,” he said as he put his stethoscope down and sat back. “Work?”

“Yes,” Okita answered, nodding slightly. “She stated that she had received an assignment from Yamagata-sama that would take her away for a little more than two weeks. She left three days ago.”

“Ah,” was all he said to that answer as he resumed his examination of his patient. He had no business in prying what exactly Okita's wife was doing, for the nature of her work was extremely secretive, especially since Matsumoto Aya had been the former spymaster of Kyoto's police force. However, since her marriage to Okita, she had taken on the surname alias that Okita used.

Her promotion to Tokyo to work for Yamagata after what had happened during the summer had surprised Susumu. First was the fact that a woman of all people was working directly for Yamagata. Aya already broke a lot of the traditional roles during the revolution, but to continue that streak after the end of the war... Susumu was quite impressed. But from what he knew of the man who was part of the Genrou and the supreme leader of Japan's Imperial Army, Field Marshal Yamagata Aritomo, was a very shrewd man – gender or no, the man made sure the country stayed at peace, and used whatever was necessary to ensure that peace. Rumors also persisted that Yamagata had agents formerly of the army, with many of them now working in police forces everywhere. He only knew of Aya's status within Yamagata's agents because a particular person he had contact with – Saitou Hajime.

“So how is your chest and throat been doing with the changes in the weather?” he asked after a few more minutes of silent examination.

“I have some irritation in my throat in the morning when I wake up,” he heard the man truthfully answer. “But after some hot tea and medication, I feel much better. Coughing only comes to the forefront if I am practicing all day with the students.”

“Even if it is just some light sparring?” he asked, though he was well aware that his own definition of 'light sparring' was probably completely different than what Okita thought of as 'light sparring'.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Susumu nodded, before saying, “I'm not going to tell you to try to limit how much you spar, but try to keep it in moderation. Try to also have some warm water ready after you spar. The cold well water is most likely contributing to further irritation and it will only get worse when the really cold weather comes in. You also might want to consider wearing a scarf or something during sparring to keep your chest from being subjected to too much extreme temperature differences between the air and your body, especially after practice.”

“Thank you, Yamazaki-sensei,” Okita said. “I will take your advice to heart.”

“How about strength?”

“Still the same as it was before leaving Kyoto to return to here--”

Okita fell silent as both Susumu and the dojo master heard footsteps approach the room. However, the footsteps and intent behind them were not ill and a moment later, the young voice of Yuki, Okita's primary apprentice and son, said, “Pardon the intrusion, Yamazaki-sensei and father, but Ichimura Tetsunosuke-san is outside.”

Susumu glanced over at Okita who gave a slight shrug but there was a cheerful smile on his face. “He's a day early.”

“Yes, indeed,” the dojo master agreed. Both of them had received letters a week earlier from Tetsu, who had stated that he would be coming up to Yokohama to engage in some trade business and would have some time to visit Tokyo.

“Tell Tetsu that we'll be right out, kid,” Susumu said.

Footsteps indicated that the boy had shuffled away to inform their guest, and Susumu resumed the last part of his examination. It took no more than a few minutes, and when he was finally satisfied that everything physically about Okita was as normal as possible for a man of his condition, he sat back and started to wrap the instruments into the thick cloth. The dojo master politely waited for him to finish packing up before the two of them exited the room and returned to the dojo and small courtyard.

“Figures,” he half-snorted the word as he saw his friend standing near the entrance to the dojo, watching the students practice with a wistful smile on his lips.

His word caused Tetsu to turn from watching the students and walk over to them, though Susumu could have sworn there was a slight _bounce_ in the man's steps. Putting his medical bag down, he clasped his friend's arm before giving him a back-pounding hug. Despite what had happened over the summer, he could see that Tetsu was seemingly on the rebound. Even the eyepatch that his friend now wore over his right eye didn't seem to bother him anymore.

Stepping back with a grin on his face, Tetsu did the same arm-clasp and embrace with Okita, though there was no back-pounding involved. As soon as the man stepped back, he said, “You're early.”

“Negotiations for the first batch went faster than I expected,” Tetsu answered. “I'll have to go back to Yokohama later this afternoon to meet up with a vendor, but I think that I'll have some time to visit again tomorrow. Want to go out for lunch today?”

“I'm thinking Akabeko,” he immediately said, “but I have my morning rounds to finish up before I can go.”

“Then we will come by your clinic at noon, Yamazaki-sensei,” Okita said, nodding slightly.

* * *

_On the other side of Tokyo..._

 

“Eh? That's _very_ interesting...”

“Yahiko! Put down the newspaper and help clean the dojo's floor.”

Kenshin glanced up from scrubbing the clothes in the bucket to see Yahiko with an intensely concentrated look on his face as he read the paper. The sounds of Kaoru's other students filled the dojo as they cleaned the dojo's floor and readied themselves for the morning's practice. He knew that the boy occasionally read articles, but this was the first time he had seen such a rabid look on Yahiko's face.

“Yahiko!”

Kaoru's admonishing shout from the dojo finally snapped the boy out of his daze and Kenshin saw him get up quickly before folding the paper and placed it back down on the walkway. With the sounds of his wife continuing to berate Yahiko for his lack of attention and laziness in the maintenance of the dojo filling the air, along with the boy's own protests, curiosity got the better of him. As soon as he finished washing the last piece of clothing in the batch and hung it to dry, he wiped his hands dry on his hakama and approached the walkway.

Picking up the paper, he noticed that it was today's printout, but Yahiko had left it folded a few pages in. While Kenshin himself did occasionally read the newspaper, he only skimmed the main articles that were printed on the front of the paper. Most of the other articles that were deep within the paper were only rumors, gossip, and speculation that he cared not to read about. As he took a look a the articles that were listed on this particular page, it was the main headliner on the page that surprised him.

[ **Navigator, Negotiator, and Peacemaker: The Life of Sakamoto Ryouma** ]

The fact that it was already the fifth segment, and it took up at least half of the page surprised Kenshin. As he glanced through the article, he realized that it was the middle of a recounting by someone who knew Sakamoto in life, and that the article writer had taken it and made it into a story. He himself only briefly met and knew of Sakamoto during the revolution, and though he was skeptical of some of the things that had happened in this particular segment of the multi-part story, he could see why someone like Yahiko would've been intrigued in the story. It was quite catching, especially for the younger generation who had not too many memories of the horrors during the revolution.

Though he wondered why a story segment was being written about the great negotiator who had united Satsuma and Choshuu, he hoped that it was not a start to more articles being written about the lives of the leaders who ushered in the new era. There were just too many dark things that should not be revealed to the public. Putting the paper back down, he wiped the concerned expression that was on his face away before his wife could glance at him and returned to the laundry.

A few hours later, with all of the laundry completely done and hanging on various bamboo poles around the area to dry, he dumped the last pan of dirty water out and brought it back to its storage area. There was a slight ache running through his body, stemming from the fact that his years of using the most powerful style, Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, was finally catching up to him. However, he ignored the ache that seemed to course through not only his muscles but also within his bones, and briefly closed his eyes to just _listen_. The sounds of the students with their energized ki-ai ringing through the air were still going strong enough that he did not hear the door to the dojo being opened and a person step in until he turned from storing the laundry pan away to see a familiar face walk in.

“Megumi-dono!” he said, surprised as he saw the young doctor smile and approach. Even though he had seen her a few months ago in the aftermath of the incidents that had not only wracked Kyoto but all other major cities in the country, she still looked the same as he had first seen her.

“Ken-san,” Megumi answered, approaching. “It's good to see that you're doing well. My search for my family in Aizu has finally ended.”

The smile that was initially on his face turned into one of sadness as he saw no other persons accompanying her. “I'm sorry, that I truly am.”

The doctor sighed as she said, “It was a long shot, especially with the rumors that I heard, but I've made my peace.”

“Megumi!” he heard Kaoru exclaim as he turned slightly to see that the students were done with morning practice and were starting to put their shinai and armor away, before surging towards the well to get some much needed refreshing water.

Due to the pregnancy and on the advise of Dr. Gensai, Kaoru no longer sparred with her students and mainly oversaw and corrected techniques and matches. However, as her belly and the baby within her belly grew, Kenshin knew that in probably less than a month or so, she would definitely need to stop most of her activities within the dojo. It would be up to Yahiko to take over until Kaoru gave birth and recovered from that to begin practicing again. He knew that the boy was readily up for the task, and even now, Kaoru was already ceding control of practice sessions over to the boy.

“Kaoru,” the doctor said, as Kaoru slipped into her sandals and approached with a bright smile on her face. “I hope that you're not sparring.”

“Nope,” she replied, shaking her head. “I'm taking Gensai-sensei's advice seriously.”

“Good,” Megumi answered quite curtly.

“Are you back to visit?” Kaoru asked.

“No. Gensai-sensei has kindly allowed me to come back and work in his clinic,” Megumi said, though her next words took a more melacholic tone. “My search for my family in Aizu has ended.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Kaoru said, though she was weeping slightly. Kenshin placed an arm around his wife, knowing from what Dr. Gensai had told him, that heightened emotions were always present whenever a woman was pregnant. Fortunately, it seemed that as the pregnancy progressed, Kaoru was greatly affected by sad news more than issues that caused her anger. As soon as she calmed down enough, she said, “I know this is awkward, but perhaps this is a good time to go out for lunch, after all, my appetite at home is always seemingly strange, even to myself. I don't think I'd want to subject you to what I usually eat for midday meals.”

At that statement from his wife, Kenshin could not help but nod in total agreement. “That she does have a very strange appetite.”

“Kenshin,” Kaoru huffed, but he could see that she was not truly angry at him, “You're not supposed to agree with me.”

Fortunately, the light laughter of Megumi got their attention as the doctor said, “I would be delighted to. You're not the first woman that I've come across who has had a strange appetite when they're pregnant. It's quite natural, but yes, let's eat somewhere else.”

* * *

_In Tokyo's central police station..._

 

A cloud of smoke surrounded the air that Saitou Hajime was breathing in as the cigarette that he had just breathed in and out was placed on the small ash tray that held a small pile of ash and several crushed cigarettes. Though his desk was littered with pieces of paper, some covered in small writing, others still in folded letters that had not been opened yet, it was all corralled into one particular area on his desk. The rest of the area was arranged rather neatly; stacks of signed reports sitting in predetermined spaces, ink for both a brush and a feather ink pen sitting at the corner, within reach, and books of procedures aligned in a straight fashion that included a rather worn translated copy of Sun Tzu's famous text: The Art of War.

His special-issued katana was resting on the stand that was next to where he was sitting – definitely within easy reach, should some madman invade the station and manage to make it through more than the fifty police officers in this section of the building. If the madman actually survived the onslaught, then Saitou was prepared to acknowledge the prowess of the madman and then cut him down with extreme prejudice.

Whenever on travel, he was afforded his own office, but here, at home in Tokyo's main station, he was actually not that high up enough in the chain to merit his own private office. Not that he minded, for there were at least two other specially grey-uniformed officers in the area where his desk was. All other policemen in this area of the station wore the traditional dark blue-black uniform. He too wore the traditional uniform, but it was only whenever he was not in Tokyo, for it was better for him to blend in with the local police force than it was here in this vast city where it was common for those in the grey uniform to lead local but major investigations.

“Fujita-san?”

Saitou looked up from the report he had been reading to see that a young officer, who still had the look of someone who had just graduated basic training, nervously stand near his desk. The young office was carrying a letter and a wrapped bento box, to which he recognized his wife's handwriting on the front of the letter. While it was common for messages to be delivered from spouses to be delivered into the station, with the occasional rare visit undertaken, messages were usually written on a small folded piece of paper or verbally repeated. The letter that the officer had seemed like a full-blown letter. How strange it was, for he knew that Tokio never had more than a few words to say to him whenever a message was being passed on – even if it was to go visit her extended family a few leagues away from Tokyo.

“Yes?” he curtly asked, as he glowered slightly at the officer for not even having a proper spine to stop shifting in his shoes. How the hell had someone this nervous pass the exams and graduate to become an actual officer in the police force?

He frowned as he answered his own question less than a second later – because of what happened over the summer to all major cities' police forces, mass recruitment and training had been implemented to replenish all cities' forces. All cities except for Tokyo were only operating at half or less than what forces they originally had, and Tokyo had responded by deploying several groups out to them to help bolster their numbers until each city was able to fully replenish their numbers. Special assignments given to the grey-uniformed officers had dwindled, and many of them had been reassigned to help with the patrols around Tokyo. A few exceptions had been made, but so far, upon his return to Tokyo and wrap-up of his previous assignment, Saitou had not been given another special assignment yet by Yamagata Aritomo.

Not that he didn't mind the lack of special assignments; Saitou felt that it was good to walk along Tokyo's streets for a while. It gave him a good gauge of the people's feelings and in turn, he passed along the information that he picked up from just the locals around Tokyo back to his superiors.

“From your wife, sir,” the officer said, extending the package towards him and Saitou took it.

“Thank you,” he said in a short tone, just as the officer gave a hasty bow and scrambled away. When he was sure the nervous officer was well away from the area, he sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes. That officer needed to grow a spine. Placing the bento box to the side, next to the stack of reports, he unfurled the letter on top of the leaflets that decorated the working space of his desk.

[ _Dear: I know that no progress has been made on trying to find our dear son, but a neighbor came over this morning and brought a lovely care and comfort package to help us through these times. There was also a missive with words of wisdom from Mencius that was attached to the package. I have taken those words to heart and have left it next to where you've stored your items from your days as a lone wolf. Please have a look at it when you return tonight._ ]

Saitou felt the corners of his lips curl up in a slight smile that was not entirely benign. As he folded up the letter, he placed it into the inner jacket pocket of his uniform before glancing over at the bento box. While quite normal and ordinary, the bento box served as a good cover to smuggle the letter in. He knew that Tokio was not the most adept at word play encryption when writing missives, but she had picked up enough from his days within the police force to write an ordinary letter that told him something was not quite right.

Most people studied Confucius and quoted him quite often. Mencius was also another Chinese philosopher who was also studied, but not as intensely quoted for wise sayings. The fact that his wife specifically mentioned the philosopher told him that a strange letter and a package had arrived at their house. And while the package was not enormous, it was heavy enough that Tokio could not lift it up and set it upon a table. Instead, she had managed to shuffle it towards a specific area – directly over the small stone-covered hole that he had dug into the foundation of the house to store his old Shinsengumi overcoat and what was left of his daisho pair from those days. That meant that the package was definitely from someone with ties to the Shinsengumi. Very few people knew that he was still alive, and not counting the four shinobi who had worked with them during the revolution, there were only three other former surviving members of the Shinsengumi who knew that he lived in Tokyo.

Nagakura Shinpachi, now living under a pseudonym, did not count, for Saitou had never sought the man out after the end of the war. Ichimura Tetsunosuke was someone that he cared not to associate with unless he really had to, and thus he knew that the letter and package would never be from the former page. Okita Souji lived in Tokyo and he knew that his comrade would never go through this much deception to get a point across – Okita's wife might have, but that was only because of how he assumed shinobi, even former ones, operated. That left the only other person he personally knew of: Ichimura Tatsunosuke.

Yamagata Aritomo had control over the assignments of all those in the grey police uniform, but it had been Katsura Kogoro, before he died, who had directed Saitou to secretly maintain contact with Ichimura Tatsunosuke. The former accountant for the Shinsengumi was a very intelligent man, and it was through Katsura that Saitou had learned that the elder Ichimura was also a talented linguist. However, the way Katsura spoke of being a 'linguist' had him believing that it was not about languages that Ichimura was good at. He had no idea what the man meant, and even after Katsura's death, still did not fully understand.

With the process of elimination complete and quite sure of who exactly had sent him the package, he knew that he would have to wait until tonight to find out why.

“Hey!” a voice shouted as Saitou looked up to see an officer skid into the area, causing many other heads to poke up out of curiosity. “There's an incident brewing near the Akabeko! We're getting reports from those in the area that there's some crazy maniac with a pistol threatening people.”

“You three, and all of you over there,” Saitou immediately said as he swiftly stood and scooped his katana up in one movement, using his other hand to gesture to the officers in the area, “come with me.” Though his desk area was near the front of the station, a place normally reserved for new officers to get as much experience as possible in patrolling and responding to incidents such as this one, he enjoyed sitting near the front. It gave him the most opportunity to respond to any incident and thus keep a better pulse on the populace of the country's capital city.

As he secured his sword to his side, he gestured towards the other two grey-uniformed officers, saying, “Sakahara and Biwa, you're needed too.”

“Yes, sir,” the two officers said, also securing their sabres to the side as the policemen who had been summoned by Saitou secured wooden batons. It would have been more prudent to secure sabres with the regular policemen, but for what little they knew of what was happening near the Akabeko, he did not want potential complications to happen if the man with the pistol had idiotically taken a civilian hostage. He was confident that three grey-uniformed policemen would be enough to subdue the situation.

Together, the group streamed out of the main station and hurried towards the unfolding incident.

* * *

_On the streets of central Tokyo, minutes before..._

 

“Have you picked out a name yet for the baby?”

“No,” Kenshin heard Kaoru laugh as he glanced over to see her shake her head at Megumi's question. “We're still discussing names.”

“Well make sure that you pick one out for a boy and a girl,” the doctor advised. “Of all the old-wives tales that I heard about pregnant women, over half of it aren't true. You cannot tell the gender of the baby just by what the mother eats. You also cannot tell if the baby is a boy or girl by the size of the mother's stomach – I swear, I helped birthed a rather enormous baby girl once before.”

Kenshin could not help but smile at that statement as Kaoru laughed a bit before saying, “Well, we'll choose both names, though I really hope its a boy.”

“How about you, Ken-san?”

“Oro?” He honestly had no answer to the question on whether or not he preferred a son or daughter. He only knew that he would love the child and treasure it as much as he treasured his wife.

Fortunately, he was saved from further explaining himself as a boisterously loud voice shouted from behind them, saying, “ Hey!”

The four of them stopped and turned, as Kenshin found himself widely smiling at the sight of old comrades and of a newly-found member of his extended family walking towards them. Half-running to quickly catch up to them was Ichimura Tetsunosuke, whom Kenshin had found out a few months ago who was his maternal cousin. Walking more sedately behind Tetsunosuke were: Takahashi Reika, a Kyoto herbalist who was now living and working in Tokyo; Dr. Yamazaki Susumu, whom occasionally took care of both him and Kaoru whenever Dr. Gensai was not available; Okita Souji, or as he was known in the new era, Shirou Kaneyoshi; and Okita's son, Yukimura, though the boy was more prone to answer to Yuki than his full name.

Since the incident during the summer and their return to Tokyo, Kenshin had not contacted any of them, besides Dr. Yamazaki, except for Tetsunosuke, whom he occasionally exchanged letters with. They had their own lives to tend to, and he was content on not bothering any of them. The same cordial, respectful distance that he maintained with Saitou was given to Okita – just thinking about the surviving Shinsengumi members still occasionally brought up memories of a more violent and bloody times for him. He wanted those memories to rest and fade.

“Trade in Yokohama?” he asked, knowing that it was most likely something to that nature that brought his cousin (it was still very odd for him to think about that relation) up, as Tetsunosuke stopped before him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yep!”

It had not escaped Kenshin's notice that Yahiko was looking at those gathered with a puzzled eye. Though Yahiko had not stated that he had wished to be there in Kyoto during the summer, when Kenshin and Kaoru finally returned, Kenshin had sensed that the boy had yearned to help. However, the maturity that had enveloped the boy since before the Yukishirou Enishi incident was growing and he knew that Yahiko was beginning to understand that he would not be able to participate in every single battle or fight to defend the innocent. There were always just too many being waged at any given time, and that he could only defend as many as he humanly could.

“These were some of the people who helped defend Kyoto a few months ago, Yahiko,” he spoke up, gesturing to the group before him. “Takahashi Reika-dono, Yamazaki Susumu-sensei, Ichimura Tetsunosuke-dono, Shirou Kaneyoshi-sensei, and Shirou-sensei's son Yuki.” He was careful not to give out Okita's true name, for not only were they in public, he also understood that in this day and age, someone of Okita's infamous status most likely preferred to live anonymously. It was also the fact that everyone except for a select few thought that Okita Souji was dead.

“I'm Myoujin Yahiko, Defender of Tokyo!”

“In-training,” Kaoru tacked on immediately after the boy enthusiastically crowed. “Still in training until I say otherwise.”

There was a mock-defeated look on Yahiko's face but it did the trick in easing the air around the group as a few of them laughed. As ever polite, Kenshin saw Okita bow slightly towards Yahiko, saying, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Myojin-kun. I am sure Tokyo and her people will be quite protected once your master says that you are ready.”

“Heh,” Tetsunosuke snorted as Kenshin grinned at the genuinely surprised look that appeared on the boy's face. “Anyways, are you guys going to lunch too?”

Kenshin nodded. “We're not sure where though.”

“Come to the Akabeko with us! My treat since I'm in town for a few hours.”

“Oh no, we couldn't intrude,” Kaoru began but Kenshin saw Tetsunosuke vigorously shake his head.

“I'll be neck-deep in Yokohama business for the rest of the week, so I might not get to see any of you guys until the next time I come up, which is probably going to be late next year.”

Kenshin could see the utter reluctance in not only his wife's expression, but also Megumi. However, it was also a good time to catch up and hear about Kyoto's rebuilding instead of through letters. He too was also reluctant to accept Tetsunosuke's generous offer, but in this situation... “We accept--”

A horrendous, raw scream suddenly tore through the air, causing many heads, Kenshin and the others included, to turn towards the source of the sound. There was a disheveled-looking man stumbling down the street; with tattered and moth-eaten clothes covering his body, and dirt streaking his face, hands, and hair. He screamed again, and before he even got any closer to where they were, Kenshin immediately pushed Kaoru behind him with an arm while the other grabbed the scabbard of his sakabatou which was sitting at his waist.

“They killed him!” the man said, as he stumbled and approached a few frightened-looking people who shied away.

However, before he could react and confront the man, Dr. Yamazaki had already stepped out into the circle of on-lookers who were forming a perimeter around the wild man. “Hey!” the doctor shouted, as he strode with as much confidence as could be mustered. “It's all right. It's going to be all right.”

The man turned towards the doctor, whom Kenshin thought he saw the doctor making small hand signals behind his back. A glance around told him that Takahashi was no where to be seen. Okita was not quite standing near him, though he saw that the swordsman had a firm hand on Yuki's shoulder and another to prevent Tetsunosuke from running into the circle. Megumi had shrunk back and had dragged Kaoru slightly away, further into the crowds. Yahiko was standing beside him with one hand reached back for the shinai that was strapped to his back, though there was not enough room for him to even draw the bamboo sword.

“They killed him!” the crazed man repeated.

“It's all right,” Yamazaki said in as patient of a voice as possible. “Who? Who did they kill?”

“Those bastards,” the man said, and faster than Kenshin could follow, a revolver appeared in the man's hand. He would have reacted instantly and drew his sword to disable the man, had he not seen the firm gesture that the doctor did with his hands splayed out. The doctor had gestured for not only him and Okita, but also for Takahashi, whom he finally spotted lurking right in the crowds directly behind the doctor, to stop. The doctor wanted to solve this without any cause for violence, even if it was with a sakabatou or blunt weapon.

“Easy,” the doctor said, raising his hands up in a gesture of surrender, causing the man's careless waving of the revolver to stop as the disheveled man focused onto the doctor's word. “Was that your friend's revolver?”

“They killed him,” the man whimpered, his voice slightly hoarse from his earlier shouts. “Those bastards killed Okada. They killed my childhood friend...”

_Okada..._

“Do you--”

“They'll be after me next,” the man interrupted, in an eerily calm tone. Oddly enough, the man also now stood still, as if his previous agitation was nothing but a strange episode, as Kenshin widened his eyes and realized what was about to happen. He pushed off from the ground as fast as he could, leaping forward. Just as he was about to draw his sword mid-flight, he saw the man raise his arm that contained the revolver and fired.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved the grey uniforms that Saitou and some of his fellow officers were dressed in for the live-action Rurouni Kenshin movies, which is why they got adopted into this story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

Frightened shouts and cries of those who had initially gathered, drawn by the human nature of curiosity, filled the air as a messy spray of brain and bone matter violently ejected away from the hole in the head. Kenshin had not even managed to draw his sword before the crazed man had turned the revolver onto himself and kill himself. As he skidded to a stop, with an ache running through his body just from the fast movement he had done, he let go of the scabbard and hilt of his sword as he stood before the dead body.

Dr. Yamazaki was still half-crouched, in an attempt to stop the man, but as the faraway shouts of policemen started to overwhelm the concerned whispers and crying from people who had witnessed the suicide, he saw the doctor shift and stand. The crowds parted to allow the dark-uniformed policemen to start pushing people back from the dead man. Three grey-uniformed officers strode through after the initial wave of policeman and somehow, Kenshin was not surprised to see Saitou among the three.

He heard and saw the policeman sigh, irritation written all over his face before looking back and forth between the doctor and him. Saitou's eyes also glanced behind the two of them and Kenshin knew that the man had also spotted familiar-looking people in the crowds.

“Sakahara, gather statements from the people before they loose interest and disperse,” he heard Saitou order as the man turned slightly towards the doctor while gesturing with a gloved hand towards the still-morbidly curious people. “Biwa, collect the evidence and have someone go get a straw tarp.” He heard the man pause for a moment before completely focusing his attention on the doctor and said, “Yamazaki, what happened?”

Whether or not Saitou was deliberately ignoring Kenshin with the slight turn and focusing of his attention on the doctor, Kenshin was grateful as the doctor began his explanation. It gave him the opportunity to slip back to where Kaoru, Yahiko, and Megumi were. He could see the look of grim horror on Megumi's eyes, along with the shocked expression that Yahiko carried. In his wife's eyes though, there was sadness – and that caused a small pit of unhappiness to well up in his stomach. Before the summer, he knew that something such as an open suicide would have horrified Kaoru as much as it did to Megumi right now. Both he and his wife had witnessed so many horrific things happening both in and out of the city that he was grateful that Yahiko had not been there. There were just some things that no one should have to ever witness.

“Please go ahead without me,” he said to the three of them. “I will join you as soon as I give my statement to Saitou and the other policemen, that I will.”

“Kenshin...” Kaoru began, but was gently tugged on an arm by Megumi. Reluctantly, though with a reassuring smile from him to her, she left. He also gave a reassuring nod to Yahiko who glanced over at the policemen before giving him a look. Seemingly satisfied with the simple nod, the boy also left.

By the time his wife and friends disappeared into the thinning crowds, he turned slightly to see Okita urging Tetsunosuke and Yuki to go, though it looked like Reika was currently giving a statement to the grey-uniformed officer that Saitou had identified as Sakahara. Stepping back up towards the dark-uniformed officers who were still holding back curious people with their bamboo and wood batons, he caught Saitou's eyes. A couple of the officers also followed his lead and turned slightly to see their commander nod slightly as he gestured for them to allow him through.

Surprised by the gesture, he approached, gauging at just how annoyed Saitou looked with the current situation. He caught the tail end of Yamazaki's statement, with the doctor saying, “...helping him as I should have, not as a threat.”

“Anything to add, Battousai?” Saitou brusquely asked.

“I believe I know who the young man might have been referring to,” he supplied. The name that the now-dead man had said, about _them_ killing his childhood friend had initially made no sense until he had thought about it just before the suicide had happened. By then though, it had been too late to stop the man. “It was published in today's papers in the back sections, that it was. The fifth part of what appears to be a recounting of a story from someone who knew Sakamoto Ryouma in life before he was assassinated.”

“You,” he saw Saitou turn and gesture to one of the officers, “get me today's paper.” As the officer ran off to fetch a copy, Kenshin heard Saitou mutter, “Old wives tales, unbased rumors, and pure speculations are in the back portion of the papers. I would've never thought you the type to read such nonsense, Battousai.”

“The story was entertaining, to say the least,” he stated quite mildly. “Certainly embellished for the average audience, but there was a section within the story that talked about one of Sakamoto's friends, a Tosa hitokiri who operated in Kyoto about a year before the Ikedaya incident, named Okada Izou.”

“That's why the name sounded familiar,” he heard the doctor say, just as the officer who had been sent to retrieve a copy of the paper returned and presented it to Saitou. Quickly flipping to the back pages, Kenshin saw the frown on Saitou's face grow deeper before the policeman sighed more in frustration than irritation. The paper was half crumpled and folded as Saitou finished reading and tucked it under an arm, glancing down at the remains of the man.

“Could the man's psychosis been triggered by what had been written in the story?” Yamazaki speculated, though Kenshin had a feeling that the doctor was posing a more rhetorical question to himself than to anyone else. “With the brain matter ripped into pieces by the bullet, any examination attempt on the brain using western methods would yield not much information.”

“He did speak of Sakamoto-dono as if the man was a childhood friend,” Kenshin began.

“Yes, but he did not have the accent or age to match the story.”

Kenshin was not the only one to glance back to see Okita approaching, seemingly as if he had heard every word they said with an oddly serious look upon his face. “The man looks too young to have known Sakamoto Ryouma as a child, and his accent is somewhere north of here...possibly Sendai or somewhere in the region there. The Tosa accent and dialect is quite hard to replicate by a non-native speaker. I learned that from Sakamoto-san himself when I ran into him before when I was a boy.”

“He's right,” Yamazaki spoke up, nodding. “It's one of the accents that many shinobi of the Oniwabanshuu not from the region could not replicate perfectly. The dialect is easy enough to replicate, but to pass as a Tosa native, it was better to actually be one.”

“Noted,” Saitou stated, as Kenshin saw him take out a cigarette and light it. After a few puffs, the policeman said, “Give your statements to Sakahara over there, Yamazaki and Battousai. Okita, a word.”

It was as blunt of a dismissal as possible, and though Kenshin knew that the man could have said it in fewer words, public settings meant public appearances had to be kept up. Tokyo had not been struck as horribly as other cities had during the summer crisis, but people were still rattled. They needed to see that the people they trusted to keep them safe, the government that had rode out and crushed Saigo Takamori's rebellion, stopped Shishio Makoto's rampage, and ensured that Yukishirou Enishi's arms dealing with a side of vengeance, was still as strong as ever. The summer's incident had shaken faith, and even such a public suicide such as this man had done was bound to put more irrational fear into people.

With a slight nod towards those gathered, he left to go to the policeman named Sakahara. While the show of responsive force by the police was necessary, he hoped that by the time his child was born, a sense of peace would start to settle back into the country.

* * *

“I am still in no condition to join the police force, Saitou-san.”

Saitou merely puffed away on the cigarette as glanced at Okita for a brief moment before returning his gaze to the dead body and took the cigarette out of his mouth. Gesturing towards the body, he said, “The man could not be more than twenty years of age.”

“Then ten or younger when he lost his parents to the chaos of the revolution,” Okita supplied. “The clothes are definitely a little too small for someone of his stature. He was most likely malnourished for the few years that he was growing, judging by how deformed his fingers look – he probably was going to be as tall as you. However, the revolver looks new.”

“Too new,” Saitou muttered, carefully picking up the weapon and examined it. “Western weapons caches from an incident last year are still scattered around the region, most of them concentrated at Yokohama harbor, though we've managed to secure a lot of them. Many of them contained small firearms that were to be sold to people on the black market in Tokyo. Judging from the pristine condition, this looks like it was directly smuggled in from the docks at Yokohama...”

“Saitou,” he heard his comrade warn with an edge in the tone of his voice. The honorific that was usually tacked onto his name was completely gone, and he knew exactly what Okita was warning him about.

Fortunately, he did not have to defend his question as to why Ichimura Tetsunosuke was here in Tokyo on this very particular day as an officer interrupted their conversation, saying, “My apologies Fujita-san, but Yamagata-sama has summoned you. There's a carriage waiting for you.”

Fortunately, his subordinate, Sakahara, had overheard the summon and had hurried over. Saitou handed the revolver and crumpled paper over to Sakahara as he saw Okita give a slight bow, knowing that their discussion was over. He knew that he would not get to utilize Okita's observational skills in an unofficial manner, not unless he wanted to turn heads and bring in Okita as a consultant. It was as the younger man said, he was definitely in no condition to join the police force, and so Saitou let him be. What he received in that brief conversation was enough for him share with the others in this investigation.

Without another word towards Sakahara or to Okita, who was already dissappearing into the crowds, he headed towards the carriage. As soon as he seated himself and an officer closed the door, there was a slight rocking motion as he was bore away. Placing his cigarette back into his mouth, he inhaled deeply, letting the narcotic soothe his nerves.

Yamagata would never summon him unless it was with regards to an assignment. He had already given his report to the man with regards to the debacle in Kyoto and other cities. Kitamura Suzu was safely in custody, and though the culprit or culprits who had murdered the decoy that had traveled by land had not been captured or identified yet, it was not the government's priority. Saitou had officially stated whom he thought had murdered the decoy and the people guarding the decoy, but so far, nothing had come to fruition of that.

Minutes ticked by and soon, the carriage stopped in front of the Imperial Army headquarters. It was an elegantly built and starch white building, built to the standards of the Western powers' architecture. While majestic-looking, it was also quite imposing. Saitou had only been to this building twice before: once when he formally enlisted into Tokyo's police force and had revealed his true name to Yamagata, and the second when Yamagata had personally called for him to join in the Imperial Army's campaign to subdue Saigo Takamori's rebellion. All of the other times that Saitou had received his assignments from Yamagata had been through Yamagata's annex office at the main police station.

Stepping out of the carriage as the door was opened, he dropped the butt of the cigarette and quashed it beneath a heel before making his way up the short flight of stairs. Elegant columns of polished wood, filigreed with a hint of gold and floors that gleamed with the oil lamps that brightly flickered surrounded him as he made his way towards Yamagata's office. Wealth screamed out at him, but he was not affected, for it was not impressive to him. It was the people who surrounded him that concerned him the most – he was charged with a personal mission to ensure that evil did not fester within the government.

However, with Yamagata at the helm of the Imperial Army, Saitou was not too worried about corruption. At the entrance to Yamagata's office, he politely knocked on the door and it was opened by an aide. Sitting behind a polished oak desk was Yamagata and Saitou merely waited for the man to be done with whatever he was writing as he heard the aide leave and close the door behind him. Any other officer would have remained at attention in front of Yamagata, but it was not out of disrespect that Saitou held himself so casually. Yamagata knew who he really was and had correctly guessed his purpose into accepting a position within the police force, and thus allowed him some latitude in protocol.

“Ichimura Tatsunosuke is missing,” Yamagata suddenly began even before the feathered quill was placed back into its holding slot on the desk.

“Missing,” he repeated the statement, though he did not frame it as a question and merely wanted confirmation of what he had just heard. It couldn't have been coincidence that he received a letter from his wife just before the suicide incident that stated that Ichimura had sent him a package, could it?. Was it also coincidence that the younger Ichimura was in town?

“You were not the only person to know of Ichimura Tatsunosuke's existence and value as a linguist,” Yamagata stated. “An agent working in the region had heard of rumors of someone targeting Ichimura, but was intercepted and gravelly injured before he could retrieve Ichimura and place him into safe custody. Before he died, he told me that those who captured Ichimura were headed northward, and judging from the accents and dialect, they were not from the main island. I believe that they may be trying to get to Hokkaido, since our jurisdiction on that island is still small and limited in scope. I need you to track and follow these people; how many bases they have, what are their numbers for forces, and what kind of threat do they pose for this country. I want to know what they want someone as valuable as Ichimura for, and if need be, stop them. Rescue of Ichimura is not your priority – I have already diverted another agent from a different mission to that task.”

“Do you know who they are, sir?”

Saitou stood with his hands clasped back as he saw Yamagata open a locked desk drawer and retrieve a folded piece of paper that looked like it had been sprinkled with blood that had only dried a few hours ago. Saitou took the piece of paper and opened it. If his frown could get any deeper, it did as he unconsciously felt himself grind the back of his teeth. It was not in frustration, but in anger.

An officer had died in the line of duty, protecting a man whom had refused to work with the new government, despite his valuable skills that were sorely needed. All that was written, or rather, drawn, on the piece of paper was a picture of a chrysanthemum. Whomever had kidnapped Ichimura Tetsunosuke were either idiots or bold enough to not care, for the chrysanthemum was the Emperor's crest.

* * *

_Year: Past, Early Autumn 1865_

 

_Between the Of Letters and Love and Hitokiri Battousai storylines from Echoes..._

 

Between the torrential downpour that was soaking the region and the fact that it was still miserably hot and humid, even though leaves were already starting to change color, Tatsu sat in the middle of the small restaurant, sipping and nursing his tea for as long as possible. Grey skies had loomed over Kyoto for the past few days, and the unusually warm weather that accompanied them had everyone wondering if a bad storm was coming. It was common though, for this time of the year, to have such sudden downpour such as this current one to happen, though everyone knew that as soon as the storm passed, cooler weather would blow in.

Tatsu looked around; there were very few patrons around here, most of them sitting near the front, waiting for the rain to stop so that they could continue onwards with their errands. The only reason why he was sitting deeper into the restaurant was because of the small sack of ledgers that he had brought from a stationary shop. He did not want to get his recent purchases too wet or crinkly from the humidity and rain. With nearly or at three hundred men, the accounting for the Shinsengumi had grown ten-fold. At least two additional accountants had joined him in managing the books, but he was still the most senior and thus had duties to go out and ensure that their supplies were adequately stacked.

“Irrashaimase!”

Tatsu sipped his tea as he heard a patron enter the restaurant, with heavy footsteps thumping towards the rear of the place. However, when someone suddenly sat down in the empty space before him, he looked up to see a familiar face staring at him from under a floppy hat.

“ _How ya doing_ , _Dragon-boy_!”

Tatsu hastily looked around, eyes wide with fear and surprise as he saw the patrons in the front pay no attention, while those near the rear didn't even look up at the boisterous greeting in English from the man who sat across from him. Swinging his head back towards Sakamoto, he hissed, “What are you doing here?!”

“What?” Sakamoto asked, the cheerful look disappearing into confusion as he leaned back slightly. “You're the one who left that message for me with the stationary shopkeeper.”

“Yes,” he continued to whisper, his tone urgent and angry at the same time. “But not here! We're too close to Shinsengumi headquarters! What if someone sees you...sees me colluding with you?”

“Wha—oh,” the man said, eyes lighting up in comprehension. “You guys moved. Don't worry, _Dragon-boy_ , I know the proprietor of this ship. He takes no sides in the war, and there are a few regulars that I see here that don't want anything to do with the Ishinshishi or with the Shogunate forces in the city. Good thing that you've managed to stop by here.”

Both of them fell silent as a serving woman placed a cup of hot tea in front of Sakamoto before leaving. “I'm only waiting out the rain, Sakamoto-san,” he groused, lifting the sack that contained the ledgers. “As soon as its done, I need to leave.”

“All right then,” Sakamoto answered, his expression returning to a cross between seriousness and cheerfulness. “So you've finish translating the page that I gave you?”

“More like decoding,” he answered, fishing out a folded piece of parchment that was hidden deep within the inside part of his clothes. He dared not ever leave this particular piece anywhere in the Shinsengumi headquarters, for what was said on it was quite damning. He handed over the piece of paper to Sakamoto who gingerly took it and unfolded it to read. Tatsu saw the man squint and quietly sighed. He had written in between the lines of gibberish with a small brush, for he had not dared to even decode the words on another piece of paper.

As soon as the man was done reading and had folded it back up, placing it within his own folds of clothing, he saw Sakamoto regard him with a very serious look. All traces of a carefree, happy expression were gone and in response, Tatsu merely took another sip of his tea. He didn't understand what he had decoded, but understood enough to know that it was the first of a very long set of orders that was to be carried out by a particular person.

“So, you asked what your father had translated,” Sakamoto began.

“Decoded,” he stated. “That's what you had him doing. Decode the gibberish to something more coherent.”

“Translated,” the man insisted and leaned in slightly, lowing his voice to say, “These people might not care for either side, but if you keep on using terminology that is unique, eventually, someone not friendly to either your or I will hear it and become very interested.”

Tatsu blinked in surprise and frowned as the man leaned back. It was not Sakamoto he was angry at, it was himself – he should have been more aware. Here he was, worried about being caught by pro-Shogunate forces while meeting with a known and wanted rebel, and using terminology that technically would have gotten him killed. Stupid, stupid, stupid – he needed to be more careful.

Sighing, he placed a hand on his forehead, leaning slightly into it, saying, “I don't think I'm cut out for this Sakamoto. What I translated...it worries me, but you already easily picked out my mistakes, and I'm leaving messages for you with a known rebel sympathizer.”

Sakamoto was silent for a few moments, regarding him with a neutral look before reaching into the other side of his clothes, opposite of where he had placed the paper that Tatsu had given him. A folded piece of paper was withdrawn and he held it out in front of Tatsu, saying, “This is what your father translated.”

He eyed the folded paper for a very long minute before sighing to himself. Damn his own curiosity; he took it and unfolded it. On it was a single sentence and his eyes widened accordingly as he read what was written on it. Suddenly, the gibberish that he had just decoded made some sense – not all for he was sure that there was more to it, but it was all coming together. Looking up at Sakamoto, he whispered, “Neither the rebels or pro-Shogunate forces could possibly gain anything from this – who or what wrote these? And who practices this 'Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu'?”

He saw Sakamoto shrug as the man said, “I don't know, and I hope that the other pieces of parchment that I have will say something or explain the orders more in depth. From what you translated, it looks like the orders were supposed to preclude something big happening – possibly not related or related to the conflict between the Ishinshishi and Shogun.” Sakamoto took a sip of his tea before continuing to say, “As for the practitioner of this Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, I don't know who it might be, but I heard the name of the style before from Chiba-sensei in Edo. Supposedly, it is like the black ship of all sword forms – the most powerful sword form there is. Whoever wields it, whatever side they're on, will give that side a great advantage. The problem is, Chiba-sensei said that no one knows who practices it and if the practitioners are still alive anymore.”

“But what if they're not on a side at all?” Tatsu asked, gesturing to the piece of paper. “As I said before – it looks like neither will gain from this happening.”

“True,” the man said, thoughtfully tapping his chin for a moment. “However, knowing what you know now, Ichimura, do you still want to continue translating?”

Tatsu glanced away for a moment before returning his attention to Sakamoto. Folding up the piece of paper, he handed it back to the man, who took it and pocketed it, and drew a deep breath. Letting that breath go with some noise, he said, “If these orders still stand and have not been fulfilled yet, we need to get both sides to the negotiating table fast. I'll continue to do it, but we have to meet somewhere else. I don't want to get caught--”

“Me either,” Sakamoto interrupted, grinning slightly as he pulled out a few pieces of folded paper. “How about at the Omiya? I know the proprietor there, it's surrounded by crowds so that you can blend in easily, and it's within the Shinsengumi patrol territory so that you can easily make an excuse to get food there.”

“It needs to be near a stationary shop so I have the excuse to go buy supplies.”

“It is. There is one a couple of stores down,” Sakamoto said. “As soon as you leave the signal to that other stationary shop guy, wait about seven or eight days and then go to the Omiya. I should be there, since we've moved the Naval Training Center to Kobe now.”

“What if you're not there?” he asked.

“I'll be there,” the man said with the utmost confidence.

Tatsu sighed before he took the folded pieces of paper and placed the assortment of them within his clothes, carefully disguising it so that he still looked the same. He would have to place his trust in this man. He could already have been ordered to commit seppuku for just even associating with Sakamoto right here and now – hell he was already committing treason by decoding something that could still potentially hinder Shogunate efforts to quash the rebels. However, it was the fact that he and Sakamoto now knew that there was more to this war and something potentially larger with far-reaching consequences that committed him to this.

He needed to do this, not only for the sake of his brother, for also for the sake of his parents. The man who killed his parents may have been Yoshida Toshimaro, but after what he had read and the page that he had decoded, he was not entirely sure that Yoshida had not been acting entirely under the influence of extremists who proclaimed _sonno joi_. If his own theories were proven true by the documents that had been just handed to him, then he knew that whoever had written the assassination order that was to be carried out by the 12 th Master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, might be coming after him or Tetsu – as they might have done to their father. However, it was still pure speculation, and he knew that he was only worrying himself even more with baseless thoughts.

“I'll see what I can do with these,” he stated with a confidence that he did not feel at all.

First things first: ensuring that the Shinsengumi, especially the four shinobi who were employed by them, did not know what he was doing with Sakamoto's documents. He was able to get away with one piece of parchment in the past few months, but now he had a small stack of them to decode. With almost three hundred pairs of eyes and ears in headquarters, two other accountants that he was in charge of, and four very talented shinobi – along with his brother getting into trouble at all odd hours, it would be tricky to decode without anyone noticing. He would have to find a way to manage it, if only to eventually get his brother out and away from the Shinsengumi.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I admit, Ichimura Tatsunosuke was not on my high priority character list when I first started writing the Echoes series. Then as I progressed in the overall Legends of the Revolution series, I realized that he presented a great opportunity to showcase what someone who really did not want to be caught up in this war was like. A reluctant hero or bystander of sorts who was only trying to make a living and keep his brother and himself alive. He became a good fly on the wall and a foil for not being involved in the bloody streets of the Kyoto battlefield.
> 
> Also, my version of Yamagata Aritomo is going to be different than what the RK anime/manga portrayed him to be. I decided to write his personality closer to the live-action movies and to history because for the tone and purposes of the story, it makes a tonne more sense.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Year: Past, Early Spring 1866_

 

_During the Hitokiri Battousai storyline..._

 

If it weren't for the fact that the members of the Shinsengumi were so used to seeing their head accountant staring off into space with strange looks gracing his face, they would have already tried to bother Tatsu from his thoughts. However, it was that fact that unknowingly protected him from the rest of the group – his own thoughts, had they been spoken out loud for he was not a good liar, would have betrayed him. Even his own brother had long become quite accustomed to the far away looks, enough that Tatsu didn't even hear Tetsu's clattering of several sparring poles on the ground. Tetsu had cleaned up his mess and walked away without a word from his brother for his clumsiness.

When he did finally blink, coming out of the reverie that he had fallen in, he realized that the ink brush he had been holding had long since stopped dripping with black ink. Unfortunately, that also meant that the rest of the bound paper in the ledger that he was currently filling out were unusable. The lantern next to his desk was also flickering quite madly, for the candle inside of it had been nearly burnt away and it was on its last legs.

Groaning in frustration, he set the brush down and left the ledger open to dry. Blowing out the candle, he slowly untucked his legs, feeling them tingle as he stood up from sitting on the tatami mat all day. Twinges of pain lanced up his legs and through his back, but he ignored it as he shook himself out and looked around. It was quieter than usual at the compound, and even for the length of time he had been sitting here, the moon had already crested and was starting to wane.

“Hey!” he heard his brother cry as he put on the sandals at the edge of the walkway and took a few steps out. Turning slightly, he saw Tetsu jog up to him, though from the way his brother carried himself, he seemed slightly put-out. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“Nothing,” he automatically said. He could not let his brother know of the thoughts going through his head. “Are they still out?”

“Yeah,” Tetsu dejectedly answered. “I wish--”

“Don't say it,” he warned, as both of them heard the sounds of hurried footsteps outside of the compound coming down the road. “You saw the papers that were given to the captains and the others. If the sightings by Yamazaki and the others are true, then be glad that the _fukuchou_ said no.”

“Well I couldn't go out anyways. Itou's been watching me like a hawk all night,” his brother groused, crossing his arms across his chest as they made their way towards the entrance. Tatsu looked around and thought he spotted Itou near the training hall, seemingly staring not at Tetsu, but towards the quarters of Hijikata. He didn't know what was with the man's strange obsession with Hijikata, but apparently, it had caused Hijikata to take a lot more interest in mentoring Tetsu whenever possible. Tatsu couldn't care about the circumstances, just so long as his brother stayed out of trouble.

Others who had not gone with the squads who had been sent to pursue the rebels, alerted by the sounds of people approaching, were also heading towards the entrance. Before they could get any closer though, the doors were thrown open as a few people rushed in, supporting injured comrades. He was not the only one spring into action as he heard Hijikata's voice roar across the courtyard, issuing orders.

Running as fast as he could to the kitchens for spare cloth, his heart nearly stopped as he heard the anguished voice of his brother cry out, “Okita-san!”

Glancing back, he saw that the First Unit Captain had almost been dragged into the courtyard, supported by members of his unit. Even with the moonlight, there was an extremely pale look on the captain's face, and added to the fact that he too became very worried when he saw several violent coughing fits overtake Okita. However, he managed to tear himself away from the scene and hurried to the kitchen. Fortunately, there were a few pieces of clean cloth folded next to the area where the bowls had been stacked. Grabbing the pile, he ran out and back towards the courtyard.

When he arrived, he saw that Yamazaki had arrived and had taken control of the medical situation that was unfolding at the entrance. Several straw mats had been laid down on the grass, and the injured were being tended to as quickly as possible. Hurrying to the nearest injured person, he knelt down and tried to see where the opening to the wound was, but with the lack of clear light, along with the blood soaking the man's clothes, he couldn't tell where it was. Risking a glance over towards where Yamazaki was, he dared not call for the shinobi, for it looked like he had his hands full. Hijikata was tending to Okita, who looked like he wouldn't stop coughing, while Fifth Unit Captain, Takeda Kanryuusai, had run back towards the kitchens. Others who were not as injured as their comrades lying on the straw mats were busy as well.

Steeling himself, he returned his attention to the man he was tending to and quickly stripped the man of his armor. He gingerly placed hands upon where he thought the blood soaking the clothes was greatest. The man gave a cry of protest as Tatsu moved his hands to the left upper torso, right near where there was a gap in the torso armor, under the man's left arm. Judging by the shout of pain, he knew that he potentially guessed right as to where one of the many wounds on this man was. Whoever had struck there was improbably accurate, and somehow, the man before him did not get his arm sliced off.

He could not risk washing the wound, especially not with how much blood was still soaking through clothes, and therefore, took a heavy piece of cloth and pressed it against the area. The man buckled in pain while hissing and then suddenly fell limp and silent. As his other hand reached out to grab a long piece of cloth, he hurried to wrap it tightly around the man before knotting it as securely as possible. He didn't know if what he was doing was even accurate, but that did not mean he had observed Yamazaki tending to medical matters before.

Panic was on the edge of his awareness and it was only because he kept seeing out of the corner of his eyes, the frenzied run of his brother being sent back and forth from the kitchens and other areas that kept him from collapsing into a heap. He needed to stay strong, to stay calm for his brother's sake. Time and again, a few patrol groups had returned, with minor injuries, but tonight... tonight was pure insanity. They had not had casualties like this since the Hamaguri Rebellion. What had happened tonight?

“Leave him,” Yamazaki's curt, harsh tone spoke in his left ear as he blinked and found himself pressing yet another piece of thick cloth to the wounded man's thigh. There was another enormous gash, hidden by the thick winter folds of the man's hakama that had initially hid the grievous wound. “He's not going to make it past the morning.”

“Wha--?” he began, looking up, eyes wide with surprise at just how blank the expression on the shinobi's face was.

“His main artery running through his legs is cut,” the shinobi answered. “He's bleeding out and there's no way to stop it. Leave him.” Yamazaki then pointed to a man lying on the stones of the courtyard, across from where the two of them were, saying, “I need you to go patch that guy up there. Upper right shoulder is cut, so wrap the bandage around his shoulder and chest, and draw up a sling to support the wound.”

It took him a moment to comprehend what exactly was asked of him, but one look into the glittering dark eyes of the shinobi-turned-field medic, and he was already up and walking across the courtyard. Though his mind was still in a haze with all of the chaos going on, he glanced down to see that at least he had somehow remembered to carry what was left of the clean cloth with him.

As he knelt down and carefully sat the wounded man up, he heard more footsteps hurry into the courtyard. However, it was the words that were spoken by the new arrivals that gave him pause, as Saitou said, “We encountered the Hitokiri Battousai tonight, Hijikata- _fukuchou_. Okita first fought him before I arrived and fought him to a draw. Unfortunately, he was wily enough to run away before the match could be redetermined.”

Tatsu felt his blood drain as he turned to stare at the entrance, seeing the Third Unit Captain's form harshly silhouetted against the moonlight. Okita was no where to be seen, and Tatsu could only surmise that the First Unit Captain had been taken elsewhere to recover, as Hijikata stood there, in the middle of the courtyard, arms folded in clear displeasure.

Two captains...two of their best swordsman had gone up against the infamous assassin, and while clearly something had affected Okita to cause the man to withdraw, the fact that Saitou had only fought to a _draw_ frightened Tatsu. Everyone was out for the assassin's blood, none more so than the Shinsengumi, but Tatsu could tell that they saw it as a challenge, and not something to be feared.

If only he could tell his compatriots what exactly they were dealing with – what exactly those who studied Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu could do...but he couldn't. He had not finished 'translating' Sakamoto's second set of documents, and thus only had a small sliver of the story, and both he and the rebel samurai had determined that it was still too early to reveal the contents of the already-translated documents to their respective sides. Too many questions and accusations would be asked and thrown around, to which neither had answers for. His only saving grace was that he had managed to sneak away a few weeks ago upon learning of the Hitokiri Battousai's sword style from what the four shinobi had brought back from Otsu and other areas, and alert Sakamoto.

He knew that the Hitokiri Battousai aided Ishinshishi forces, and that they definitely had the upper hand, now that it seemed quite certain that the infamous assassin was back in Kyoto. However, he hoped that Sakamoto was able to convince the Ishinshishi leadership to discard a dangerous weapon that they did not know they had. No one should be using any practitioner of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu in this civil war – it was too powerful and too dangerous...and if the Hitokiri Battousai was really the 12th Master of the sword form, then how did the orders from Sakamoto's lockbox tie into the assassin?

* * *

“Katsura, I thought you said that the boy was to be left alone... that he was now a sheathed sword.”

“He wields his sword to give meaning to all the lives that he has taken,” Katsura answered, but before Sakamoto could get a word in, his friend held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “I set him on this path, and I will adhere to his request that once the new era dawns, he will never kill again.”

Sakamoto was silent for a very long moment before sighing and put his mug of tea back down. “You've seen first hand how bloody and vicious that boy's sword style is, my friend. There are so many other ways to go about bringing change – violence does not have to beget more violence. I'm almost close to finalizing the wording for the preliminary meeting between Choshuu and Satsuma.”

“And on behalf of my clansmen, I thank you for that,” Katsura answered, giving him a graceful nod. “However, my people are being hunted by the Wolves of Mibu, Mimiwarigumi, and other Shogunate forces in Kyoto. They do not have enough power to match most of them, especially the ruthless packs of Wolves. I need Himura there, to be a free-wheeling swordsman, to protect my agents. He has the necessary skills to deter the Shogunate forces in Kyoto. He is no longer an assassin, Sakamoto. He kills because he knows it will be the quickest way to bring about the new era and for him to finally rest.”

“What happened, Katsura? What happened to him after Ikedaya?”

The leader of the Choshuu forces in Kyoto was silent until it seemed that the question would never be answered. “He's dangerous, my friend. What is holding him loyal to you, now that he's all but leashed to our cause?”

“Sakamoto,” Katsura sighed, “I know that you and I have had our issues, especially with regards to assassins, but please, trust me on this. Himura's sword is needed to help with our righteous cause.”

“Then please, Katsura,” the man pleaded, “give me something. All I see in the boy is danger not only to himself but to those around him. He seems to fight as if battling invisible enemies.”

“Then you are seeing him wrong. Grief, remorse, and a determination to fulfill his duty is what envelopes him--”

“Pardon me, Katsura-sensei!” a voice called out from beyond the partition. “Daidouji-san, Himura-san, and the others have returned.”

Sakamoto gave another sigh as he looked over towards his friend, who had immediately shifted to get up. Reluctantly getting up himself, he said, “I'll be in Fushimi for a few days before heading back to Nagasaki. Please, Katsura, please consider my words.”

“I will, my friend,” Katsura answered, clapping Sakamoto on the back before heading out of the room.

As soon as the partition closed and Sakamoto was sure that no others were near the area, he threw up his hands into the air before burying his face into his palms. “I tried, Ichimura. I tried,” he whispered. Looking back up, he then squared his shoulders before saying to himself, “We need to 'translate' those documents faster.”

* * *

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

Half-past ten, the small western time keeping contraption read as Saitou crossed a room in his home, heading towards the entrance. His wife was already asleep, having put their young son, Tsutomu, to bed after evening meal. As for their adopted son, Eiji, no news had been given to him or to his wife since he went missing. Despite his status within the police department, he did not press the officers conducting the missing persons searches to put priority towards Eiji – it was not his nature to. Unfortunately, now that Yamagata had given him an assignment, he did not have time to scour the missing persons reports anymore and had to concentrate on his assigned duties.

In the small courtyard to his home, he approached a rather non-descript area where there was a sakura tree and a hydrangea bush near it, growing. Stepping around the bush, he saw that Tokio had managed to push the box all the way behind the leafy bush so that if any visitors came, they would not immediately notice the wooden crate. Crouching to lift it, he noted that it was quite heavy and set it back down where it had been. The note that had been attached to the box had been tucked securely within the folds of the crate. Taking it out, he saw that it was only addressed to “Fujita”, opened it and quickly read through it:

 

_[Saitou-san: please excuse my hasty words – I do not have much time. You are the only person I know to trust with this lockbox. I have not attached the key with it, for it should never be opened. The contents in this box can and will shake the heavens and earth, along with the foundation of all that we know to be true, if opened and revealed. Please, for the sake of averting another crisis or war, do not let this box fall into the wrong hands. You cannot trust anyone with the knowledge that you have the lockbox – they are everywhere, constantly watching us. They are coming for my wife and I, and no doubt, you will hear of our disappearance from someone. Do not tell my brother about this box, for after what happened with Kitamura Suzu, I especially do not want him involved in this. Thank you._

_\--Ichimura Tatsunosuke]_

 

Saitou folded the letter back up and placed the cigarette that had been hanging in his mouth against it until it finally lit up. While he never knew the elder Ichimura well enough, even during their time in the Shinsengumi together, he knew enough to know that paranoia was in the man's blood. However, he had noticed that that paranoia was only displayed whenever Ichimura Tetsunosuke was not within eyesight of his brother. Ichimura was not one to be paranoid about anything else, and the fact that this letter contained an openly written warning made him suspicious. Dropping the letter on the stone walkway in the small garden, he watched until it was completely gone and only ashes remained. Sweeping that into the underbrush of the hydrangea bush, he then got up and went to go get the necessary tools needed to open up the crate.

Returning only a few moments later, he tapped away at certain areas on the crate until he had enough leverage to wedge the chisel in between the side and top of the crate and force it open. Sitting in the center, amongst the cushions of hay was an ordinary looking lockbox. Wrapping his hands around the base of the object, he tried lifting it up and found that he had to use a lot more strength than he anticipated just to get it out of the box. Setting it down, he frowned, staring at it, wondering exactly what materials had been used to construct it. Most lockboxes that he knew of were light enough that even women would be able to move or carry them out of the house in the event of a fire. This particular one was unusually heavy, even though it was now out of the wooden crate.

Collecting the crate, he brought it to the back of the house – he would properly dispose of it before heading to the police station tomorrow morning. Ichimura's warning was quite clear, and though Saitou trusted his comrades at the station, he never did completely trust them. It was as he had said to the corrupt politician last year while attempting to recruit Himura for the Shishio Makoto mission: he stayed and worked for the Meiji government to ensure that it was not corrupted from the inside. Whatever had pursued and taken Ichimura Tatsunosuke and his wife, was clearly something that had infiltrated the government – something that even he had not seen coming.

However, as he thought about Ichimura's words some more, he suspected that there was something tied between the chrysanthemum that Yamagata had given him earlier in the day and those who had potentially kidnapped Ichimura. Yes, it was the much shown sign of the Emperor, especially to foreign dignitaries, but it had historically long been an imperial symbol that had been adopted from China. Though China thought of it as more of a noble, seasonal flower than an imperial one. For all intents and purposes, when the Emperor declared his support for the Ishinshishi forces during the Battle of Toba-Fushimi, it was the first time in such a long time that any person had seen the chrysanthemum crest displayed. If Ichimura's abduction by those wielding the symbol were connected, did that mean that there were outside infiltrators related to the Imperial crown that no one knew about?

He frowned as he wished he had another cigarette to light up at the moment. The more likely culprit behind Ichimura's abduction was that someone was perverting the imperial symbol or had ties to it long ago that no one knew about. It was something grave and a threat enough that Yamagata was not happy about and wanted investigated and eradicated. He would do more research tomorrow before setting out to track down a few leads that he hoped turn up on his desk in the morning.

For now, to hide this box that Ichimura did not want revealed, to not only his abductors, but also to anyone else. Looking around the dimly lit garden, he knew that there was no where else to hide the thing and carefully lifted a flat, heavy stone cover off of the ground. It was hard to see into the hole, but he knew what was kept in there in a simple lockbox that was definitely not as heavy as the one that Ichimura had sent him. Reaching into the hole, he pushed the other lockbox away and deeper into an area in the hole before lifting his hand out. Taking the heavy lockbox, he lowered it into the hole and let it thump to the ground. As soon as he replaced the stone cover, he took care to dust the dirt around it to make sure a tight seal was made and that it didn't look like someone had moved the stone.

It was as safe as he could make it, and though he was still suspicious of what exactly was contained inside of it, he had more important things to worry at the moment than it. If there was any validity to Ichimura's letter, there was a threat within, a shadow that, if he was correct, had been lingering among them for a very long time. His personal mantra was to slay evil instantly, and he had been given free reign by Yamagata to do just that.

* * *

Late was the hour when Kenshin heard a knock at the entrance to his home. It was quickly followed by a muffled voice profusely apologizing, saying, “Pardon me for the interruption, but it's me, Tae.”

Glacing over at Kaoru, who had stopped mid-sip of a warm pre-sleep herbal tea that had been prescribed to her by Dr. Gensai to help alleviate some of the nausea whenever she woke up in the morning, he saw her shrug. Getting up, he put his sandals on and approached the entrance, just as he heard Yahiko sleepily emerge from another room, having heard the commotion. There were times when Yahiko stayed at the Akabeko to help them out during the morning rush of customers, and times where he stayed at the dojo – this was one of the days where he chose to stay at the dojo.

Opening the door, he was surprised to see the distraught look on Tae's face as he gestured for her to enter. Once he shut the door, he turned back and saw that Tae was looking around the dojo. “Have you seen Tsubame, this afternoon or evening?” the woman asked.

“No,” Yahiko answered, looking a little more alert as soon as Tsubame's name was mentioned. Kaoru shook her head, while Kenshin voiced the same negative as Yahiko, though he was concerned. The streets from here to the Akabeko were usually quite safe, for everyone knew that he traveled the roads around the are quite frequently, though it was Yahiko who now mainly kept the streets cleared of any thugs. Tsubame visited them every so often, with Yahiko walking her to and from the restaurant, but mostly stayed around the Akabeko.

“When did you last see her, Tae-san?” Yahiko asked, stepping down from the walkway to stand beside Kenshin.

“This morning, well, before we got overwhelmed with customers. And before you and your friends came in,” Tae answered. “I sent her out about an hour before the start of the rush to go buy some soya and a few beets a few doors down. When the lunch rush finally ended about four hours later, that's when I noticed that she hadn't returned. The strange thing was, that the soya and beets were there. I thought she just ran off to go get a few more items. It was when she didn't show up for the evening meal rush that I fear that she went missing.”

Kenshin narrowed his eyes slightly as he thought back to what had happened during the midday meal rush near the Akabeko. Surely today's tragic events were not tied to the young woman going missing? He could not be sure, but he didn't want to pin it on that event, for if the items that Tae had sent Tsubame to fetch were there, perhaps the young woman was just stopped somewhere. However, it was quite late a night and any young woman such as Tsubame would have already returned home.

“Yahiko and I will search for her,” he stated and not a moment later, he heard the boy scurry back to get properly dressed. “Please, stay here until we return.”

Tae gave a bow towards them as she said, “Thank you, Himura-san!”

* * *

_An hour later..._

 

The further Yahiko traveled from the scene where the grisly suicide had happened during the midday meal rush, having left Kenshin to take a closer look around the area, the more worried he became. Kenshin had not mentioned it, but he had seen the look in the man's eyes that mirrored his thoughts – had the suicide of that crazy man been only a distraction? The girl he knew would never get lost, especially in this area of Tokyo – and most of the thugs around here knew to leave her alone, especially after what happened last year. However, with the Akabeko being close to the trading roads that went in and out of Tokyo so that fresh meat was always readily available to customers, he found himself walking along one of the routes.

Though his shinai was strapped to his back, and his hands were at his side, he still warily looked around. The moon was not shining as brightly as it had been, for there were a few thick clouds that occasionally covered it. Very few nighttime lanterns were lit and even the oil lamps along the pathway had already been doused – no sane person would be out here right now.

He desperately hoped that the girl was just staying somewhere near here and would return in the morning, apologizing for causing such a fuss with her disappearance, but his gut was telling him that it was not true. “Come on, Tsubame,” he half grumbled as he continued to shuffle down the street, which was starting to wean away from bustling buildings and give way to forests. “Where are you?”

Minutes after walking through the beginnings of the forest that surrounded the outer edges of this part of Tokyo, he crested a small hill, only to see a horse-drawn cart and a few men surrounding it. There was a single lantern hanging from the cart and three people sitting in the back of the cart – and he recognized one of them to be a very disheveled looking Tsubame. However, even as he tried to duck for the nearest tree to hide behind, it was too late – the men had already spotted him and he could hear their approaching footsteps.

Unhooking his shinai from his back, he swung it forward and held it at a guard position. There were five of them, armed with what looked like an assortment of strange weapons, and dressed in ratty, patch-worked clothing. Taking a deep breath to calm and focus his mind, he confidently said, “I am Myoujin Yahiko, defender of the people of Tokyo! Let those three go, now.”

The only response he received from the five bandits was a roar of fury as they charged.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I humbly apologize for not posting in a while, and also for the short chapter. Real-life, along with a distracted second run-through of a particular Bioware RPG dragged me away from writing in anything. I should be back for now, with more consistent updates.
> 
> Also, if Yahiko doesn't sound like Yahiko at all, its because it's my first time writing in his POV. I confess, during my first viewing of Rurouni Kenshin back in the day, I didn't really like his character, but since he's fairly important in this story, I will need to dust off my VHS and DVD collections to watch his character-centric episodes again. All I wrote so far is what I remember of that brash kid who greatly admired Kenshin (hmm...kinda feels like Tetsu's admiration for Okita).


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

“Get that punk-ass kid!”

There was a calm stillness that ran through his mind as he charged forward, determined not to wait for those who kept Tsubame and two others captives on the cart. As he gave a hearty yell, he saw them each draw out two pairs of short rods each, brandishing them with quite a bit of ease. His grip on his shinai tightened; he had faced off against one of Shishio Makoto's Juppongatana and successfully defeated the flying bat, he had aptly defended the Kamiya dojo against the deadly Shadow Instrument user, faced and held off against a crazed machine gun-armed man, and finally, took on and won his own battle against Genbu of the Four Stars. He had more combat experience than most practitioners in this day and age, fighting against seemingly inhuman enemies – therefore, these bandits before him did not stand a chance.

Just as he closed the distance to the first bandit, he flicked his shinai down with his wrists and just as quickly, whirled to his right to dodge the bandit's downward swipe towards his head. Even before he completed his twirl, he had already raised the shinai back up and smashed it against the back of the bandit's head. The downwards swipe from left to right, unbalanced him slightly, but he went with the momentum and squarely kicked the attacker right in the gut before rolling backwards.

The budding warrior's instinct, developed from the battles that he had faced with and without Kenshin last year, yelled at him as he came up from his roll and managed to raise his shinai up behind his back, just as something metallic smashed against his back. As he pitched forward, feeling his shinai break into splinters of sharp bamboo, he saw Tsubame, along with two others, running past him.

“Yahiko-kun!” he heard Tsubame cry out as he blinked to get rid of the black spots in his vision and tried to will the impact shock from his body.

Somehow, he managed to roll forward after being struck, still clutching the hilt and what was left of his shinai as he bit out, “Run, you idiot!” Pain crawled all over his body as he tried to stand back up as quick as he could, and got a good look at who had unexpectedly ambushed him from behind. As he heard the three captives try to scamper away, he lunged forward, trying to bring what was left of his shinai to bear against the bandits who continued to surround him.

Ducking at the last second as the attacker directly in front of him swung down, he yelled as smashed the handle of his shinai against the bandit's knee, but it was not enough force and too low. The bandit's knee didn't break as he had seen Kaoru do to one of Kamatari's knees last year, though it did have the effect of forcefully knocking the bandit off balance. Plowing straight into the falling bandit, for he was still dizzy and still off-balance by the force of the previous blow, he tumbled and rolled forward.

As he rolled back up and spun, there was a flash of metal out of the corner of his eyes and he managed to cross and lock his wrists together, just as a short blade was caught in between them, preventing another bandit from slicing him open from forehead to navel. Grunting as his arms shook with the blow, he knew that he did not have the reach of his shinai any longer, but manipulated the broken end of it and jammed it into the forearms of his attacker. The bandit howled in pain and not a second later, the pressure above his head was loosened. Using the opportunity, he slipped in close and kicked the bandit as hard as he could in the stomach.

His victory over two of the five bandits was short-lived though, as a blindingly painful blow from behind crashed upon his right shoulder, forcing him to drop what was left of his shinai as a cry escaped his lips. In response, he tried to spin around to lash out with his left arm flailing only have it forcefully seized and his movement arrested. Stuck in his half-spin and completed exposed to the other bandits, he felt his breath leave him as he stared up at the one who had attacked him.

What he saw shocked him: it was a slight, black-haired _woman_ of all people, dressed in dark red from head to toe, with a stark white mantel, with a bright red inner lining wrapped around her small frame. Even in the darkness with faint moonlight, he had not even seen her anywhere on the road, in the forest, or felt her presence.

Of her presence now...even that was hard to feel. He knew that his own warrior's spirit was not as strong as Kenshin's, but it had been strong enough for him to beat Genbu of the Four Stars last year. Now though, this seemingly unassuming woman standing before him, holding what looked like to be a scabbard to a sword in her hand, was a mystery. However, just as the moonlight finally emerged from a thin cloud to shine brightly around the area, fully illuminating the woman's face, he thought the woman somehow _looked_ familiar. He couldn't place where he thought he had seen her before, and shook his head slightly. It was then that he also noticed that the bandits had not moved to crowd around him and beat him up, and had instead, had fallen silent and surrounded him, weapons raised and ready to strike. Even the one whom he had drawn blood had recovered.

“Go round them up,” the woman quietly said, roughly pushing him away to the side.

The five bandits merely grunted in acknowledgment of the order and ran off. As much as Yahiko wanted to chase after the bandits, time and experience had tempered his normally rash behavior – he knew that he could not turn his back towards this woman. Even though she only held a scabbard in her hands, he had seen the sharpened blade plunged into the ground next to a tree. This woman was dangerous and he could only hope that even though Tsubame had her hands bound, her legs were free, and that she would be fast enough to escape the bandits.

He swallowed his fear as he stood before the red woman, broken shinai still in his hands. Somehow, in his heart, he knew that he had to defeat this woman if he hoped to catch up with the bandits before they could catch Tsubame again. He took a deep calming breath, mainly to cover his surprise as the scabbard was suddenly thrown at him, landing on the ground and skittering to a stop at his feet. Gingerly, he knelt down and hesitatingly picked it up as he saw the woman silently walk over to where the unsheathed sword was and drew it from the ground.

Kenshin was no where near here, and he knew that he could not rely on him for everything. Kaoru was already allowing him to control the flow of the training day in and day out of the dojo. He was stronger than he was last year, he was able to defeat this--

“Prepare yourself, defender of the people,” the woman softly stated in a monotone voice.

Yahiko blinked as the woman seemingly disappeared before his eyes and barely got the scabbard up in time, only to find that he was pushing back with as much strength as he could muster. The woman had sprung from where she had been to where he was, almost as fast as he had seen (or not seen) Kenshin move during the island fight against Yukishirou Enishi. He planted his feet into the ground as he saw the sharp edge of the blade bite more into the scabbard, edging closer and closer towards his head.

There was a very quick release of pressure against his arms, but faster than he could react, he felt something bitingly cold and blunt smash into his chin. Stars filled his eyes as he barely felt his body lift into the air, and as he fell into unconsciousness, he could have sworn he heard the woman whisper, “Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Ryuushousen.”

* * *

It was later than he liked as Tetsu stepped out of the restaurant as he saw his business associate also part ways, with the man heading down the streets towards wherever his destination would take them. Though he had planned on returning to Yokohama harbor in the afternoon, he had ran into the vendor that he was supposed to talk to at a local trinkets shop that he often visited. This particular shop was a favorite place of his to pick up something small for his children and wife whenever he was in Tokyo. He and the vendor had gotten to chatting and the vendor had suggested that instead of returning to Yokohama immediately, they would conduct their business here in the capitol.

Now, according to the western clock at this particular restaurant, whom the vendor had invited him to, so that they could continue their discussion over evening meal and drinks, it was nearly half-past eleven. He supposed that he could stay at an inn somewhere around here, for he did not want to be rude and intrude on either Okita or Susumu's homes. And at this late hour, the only carriages that usually ran were either those from the police or government officials responding to some crisis – and he could not hear any clattering down the streets. He would not be able to find a carriage to bear him back to Yokohama.

Sighing to himself, he headed down the opposite direction, mulling about the day's events. Apart from the gruesome suicide by revolver, and the very quiet and almost unenthusiastic midday meal at the Akabeko with his friends, it had not been that bad. Before the events of the summer had come to head, he knew that he usually found the Yokohama-Tokyo trips to be much more enjoyable, but lately, he found that he missed his wife more. It also still shamed him that it took a crisis of that magnitude to finally snap his eyes open at just how he and Saya had been drifting apart, and how he had clung too much to the past. He was still making amends, but perhaps just this once, he would cut short his trip here so he could return home.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not hear the scuffling of feet on the dusty ground until the last moment and managed to plant himself into the ground – just as a girl slammed into him. He immediately grabbed the girl by the shoulders to keep her from falling backwards as she gave a cry of alarm. Even with the faint moonlight, he could see that her hands were tied and quickly knelt down to undo the knot.

“What happened?” he asked as the girl as tears sprang from her eyes and she started shaking.

“H-help!” she cried. “The men...they were chasing me, and Yahiko-kun's fighting them!”

“Yahiko?” he asked, struck at the familiarity of the name until he thought about it for a moment and realized that the girl was wearing the uniform of those who worked at the Akabeko. “Where?” he demanded, as he remembered the enthusiastic boy who had accompanied Kenshin earlier in the day, when he and the others had bumped into the group just before midday meal. The boy had declared himself to be a 'defender of the people of Tokyo', and his demeanor had greatly reminded Tetsu of himself when he had been younger...except not as bitter or vengeful. However, there were plenty of boys named 'Yahiko', but his gut told him that this particular 'Yahiko' was someone he knew.

“Down the nearest road that leads out to Yokohama,” the girl said, hiccuping as she tried to control her tears. “Please... get Himura-san and ask him to help Yahiko-kun!”

“It's going to be okay, young lady,” he said, trying to keep his own voice as calm as possible. Just the mention of Kenshin's name confirmed to him that the boy the girl referred to was Myoujin Yahiko. “There's a police station near here. Take a left at the first large intersection you come to and when you get past the shrine, take a right. The station is straight ahead on that street. Tell the police what you told me. I'm going to go help him!”

“I will and thank you,” the girl sniffed before trying to put on a brave face and ran off.

Tetsu took one last look at her departing back before squaring his shoulders and took a deep breath, regretting that he had just a tad too much to drink. Letting his held breath out, he ran as fast as he could in the direction that the girl had indicated that she had escaped from. He knew that he should have at least gone with the girl to the nearest station in this area, but if her pursuers were anywhere near where she had been, he would encounter them first – it was safe enough for her to run to the station alone. There was no time to go to where Kenshin lived, and he didn't even know where exactly his cousin lived in the city.

However, he knew that he could not do anything, and therefore, rescuing or assisting the young boy, whom seemed like a pseudo-apprentice of sorts to Kenshin was something he could easily do. It was the least he could do to repay what Kenshin had done for him and his family during the summer.

As he ran, past the last of the houses and out into the open road and finally into the forested roads that dotted the Tokyo-Yokohama route, the winds started picking up. A sudden blustery, cold gust of wind blew by, and soon, he could hear the start of the pitter-patter of rain falling on the golden-colored leaves. Though the trees in the forest still retained most of their leaves, many had fallen to the ground and where the rainstorm managed to get through, it made his footing was treacherous. It started to become more slippery as he continued to run, and soon, he had to slow down to not fall.

The other unfortunate circumstance was that in all of his running, even with the rain and wind driving most of the noise in the air, he had heard nothing that indicated a fight of sorts. There was no yelling, no shouting, and he could feel no _ken-ki_ , however small it may be, in the area. It was worrying, but he dared not shout out the boy's name – at least not yet.

Cresting a small hill on the road, he nearly slipped and fell at the apex as the ground gave slightly away to the mud and rivulets of rain water. A flash of lightning illuminated the forest, casting harsh shadows of trees and their dying leaves into his eyes. However, that brief illumination, accompanied by rolling thunder, gave him enough light to see the dark shapes at the bottom of the hill.

There was a broken cart at the bottom of the hill, with no horse attached to it. However, there were splinters of wood and something cylindrical and white on the ground. Hurrying, he slipped and fell to the ground, landing quite hard enough to clack his teeth together. Pain was secondary in his thoughts as he slid his way down to where the mud-splashed white cylinder was. Picking it up, just as another flash of lightning illuminated the skies, he saw that it was a broken shinai handle. Whatever remained of it was completed shattered, for the mud had already claimed a few shards, and he could find no other piece as large as the handle. Had this belonged to the boy?

“Myoujin-kun!” he shouted, looking around, alert for any possible attack. “Oy, can you hear me, Myoujin Yahiko-kun?!”

Silence answered his shouts, and as he got up, he took the broken shinai handle with him. Whoever had attacked the girl and the boy was strong, strong enough to shatter a shinai. Considering the boy's demeanor and personality when he had only met him earlier in the day, Tetsu knew that the boy would not go down without a fight. However, a typical attacker would have just left a defeated person as is – where was the boy?

* * *

Though there was quite a lot of lanterns in the room, illuminating the area quite a bit, Susumu wished that it was day time. However, medical emergencies never had a set time of day, and this one required the assistance of not only Reika, but also of Dr. Takani, whom he had sent Yuki to go fetch her as soon as it was apparent that the patient' injuries were grievous enough that one doctor and two assistants were not enough.

The patient had shown up not a half hour after Yuki had arrived to continue his evening studies in field medicine with him, but as soon as the patient had been stabilized, he had thanked Dr. Takani for her help and had Yuki escort her back to Dr. Gensai's clinic. The two had left a nearly forty-five minutes ago, and Susumu had extracted a promise from the boy to immediately return to his father's dojo as soon as he was done escorting Dr. Takani.

“It's starting to rain.”

Susumu smiled slightly as he heard the taps of the raindrops on the roof of his clinic, along with the winds gust by in a howl. He was glad he had made the boy carry an umbrella earlier. Hopefully, the boy managed to get home before the storm hit.

“How's our patient?” he asked as he rubbed his hands dry on a clean piece of cloth, seeing Reika step out from where they were housing the patient for recovery.

“We will need to replace his bandages in an hour,” she answered.

“I'll go file the police report on what happened,” he said, sighing slightly. “I can't believe that his wife just snapped like that and managed to successfully slice him several times and deep enough with a butcher's knife.”

“She's also still missing,” she pointed out. “I'll ensure that protective measures are in place so that if she decides to follow him here, she'll be sufficiently incapacitated.”

He nodded, but just as he was about to thank her for her help today, there was a knock at the door, which was swiftly followed by a familiar voice saying, “Yamazaki-sensei, it is me, Shirou.”

“Coming,” he said, curious as to why Yuki's father was here. He knew that Okita had no qualms about Yuki learning medicine and continuing his studies from before he had enrolled at the dojo, and in fact actively encouraged it. He was also aware that he had just resupplied Okita's medication this morning before Tetsu had unexpectedly arrived.

Opening the door, he was greeted with an unusual expression on Okita's face – worry. He had never seen Okita worried before; concerned yes, especially whenever it involved Tetsu or Yuki, but never an expression that looked so alien on him. Susumu was used to the fact that Okita always projected confidence, no matter the situation. To see Okita's face pinched slightly at the eyebrows, and graced with a slight frown on the normally genial expression he carried, made himself worry.

“Pardon the intrusion, but it is nearing midnight and I was wondering if my son was still here,” Okita stated, as a flash of lightning and crackling thunder nearly drowned out his words.

Susumu frowned as he gestured for Okita to step in and not stand at the entrance under the umbrella. The dojo master stepped in, and just as he slid the door close, another rolling thunder boomed across the skies. “I sent him to escort Takani-sensei back to Gensai-sensei's clinic nearly forty-five minutes ago. It shouldn't have taken more than a half hour for him to escort the doctor and return to home. He also had an umbrella with him.”

“Gensai-sensei's clinic is near a shrine, correct?” Okita asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Maybe he's waiting out the storm there.”

“Perhaps, but there is something wrong,” he heard the man state with certainty. “Something fearful seemed to be lingering in the air as I was walking to your clinic.” Okita paused for a moment, but Susumu knew that the strange statement was not said lightly – years of instinct and living through the bloody battlefield that was Kyoto during the revolution changed the surviving Shinsengumi members. He was well aware that even though Okita had not joined the national police force as Saitou did, the Wolves of Mibu never truly rested. “Thank you, Yamazaki-sensei,” Okita said, bowing slightly before righting himself. “If my son happens to stop by here, looking for me, please tell him that I will return to the dojo shortly.”

“I'll come with you,” he said as he glanced over towards Reika who merely gave a nod of her head, indicating that she would keep an eye on the clinic and of their patient. It was partly out of responsibility he had towards the fact that he was training the boy in medical matters to ensure that he made it home. The other part was because of all the people that had the best instinct for trouble in the air, there had been only three people within the Shinsengumi he trusted the most (apart from his fellow shinobi): Hijikata, Saitou, and Okita.

The dojo master merely gave a curt nod of acknowledgment before sliding the door open and stepped back out into the pouring rain. Susumu could see that the umbrella that the man had unfurled was quite paltry in shielding against the torrential downpour, which was what the rainstorm had turned into in the last few minutes. Still, he took his own umbrella, and however ill shielding it provided, it was still enough that at least his head was dry.

Reika shut the door after them, and the two of them trudged off in the muddy streets towards the shrine that was near Dr. Gensai's clinic. Cold rain soaked through their clothes as Susumu half-wished that the skies had stayed as clear as it had been only a couple of hours ago. However, he knew that wish was a futile one – it was autumn and with the changing leaves, so came the rain.

It took longer than either of them liked, for the winds howled and pelted them with stinging rain, but finally, they arrived at the entrance to the shrine, Susumu glanced up from underneath his umbrella to see something lying at the bottom of the stairs that would take a person up to the shrine proper. Illumination here was poor, but the multiple flashes of lightning illuminated the object at the foot of the stairs and he recognized for what it was.

A gaudy, bright red umbrella, which Reika had brought from Kyoto a couple of months ago and lent to Yuki to walk home with this evening, was sitting on the ground, in front of the stone steps, broken in half. Hurrying to the umbrella, he heard the splashing sound of Okita following him and crouched down to pick up the remnants of the umbrella. Yuki had been quite embarrassed to be presented with such an ostentatious umbrella earlier in the night, but he knew that the boy would never deliberately break anything that wasn't his own.

Susumu looked around, but he couldn't sense any presence except for sleeping people around the area, and Okita, who had picked up the other half of the umbrella. He knew the difference in presence between a sleeping person and an unconscious or injured person, and he could only sense sleeping people. Glancing back at the umbrella, he looked at the end that had been separated from the other half of it – it looked like it had been used as a defensive weapons of sorts. Had Dr. Takani and Yuki been attacked? If they had been, where were they?

“Reika gave him this umbrella to carry,” he stated to Okita who glanced around with a critical look on his face. He knew then that Okita could not sense any strange presence either.

“Let us search the area around the shrine,” Okita said, before turning and started to make his way up the precariously slippery steps.

Susumu followed him and though at times, it seemed that the wind was determined to knock both of them off-balance, they finally made it to the top. It was utter darkness at the top of the shrine's stairs, but both of them proceeded forward. As they carefully made their way around the outer area of the shrine, he could not even feel any presences that would allude to anyone being there.

“Oy, Yuki!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, just as he heard Okita also call out the boy's name. “Oy, kid! Say something if you can hear us!”

The howling winds were the only answer to their calls as he felt a chill pass through him. They were thoroughly soaked, and he knew that it was going to be dangerous for Okita's health to even remain out here any longer. However, his patient was quite stubbron and even after tugging him on the sleeve and indicating that they should leave, Okita kept shaking his head and continued to walk around.

Susumu followed him for a few more minutes before hearing the man say, “Gensei-sensei's clinic then?”

“Yeah. This way,” he said, gesturing for them to head back down the stairs. As soon as they were back on the main road, he started off in the direction of where the doctor's clinic was. As the winds continued to howl and drive the rain to fall seemingly sideways, it took the two of them a while to get to the clinic. Susumu pounded on the door, shouting at the top of his lungs, and hoping that the noise would carry over the storm.

It took a few minutes but when the door finally slid open, it was Dr. Takani who greeted the two of them, looking as if she was just about ready to go to sleep. She gestured for them to step inside and they did. However, Susumu did not waste time and held up the broken end of the umbrella, asking, “Yuki?”

Dr. Takani shook her head, as she glanced back to see Dr. Gensai come out to the front, looking quite sleepy but became instantly alert when he saw the two rain-soaked people. “That is the umbrella he was carrying, Yamazaki-sensei, but Yuki-kun left here about a half-hour ago.”

“This was found--” Okita began but was cut off as he began coughing. Fortunately, it was short-lived, though the three doctors could not help but each take a step towards him in concern. Susumu saw the former Shinsengumi wave the hand clutching the other half of the broken umbrella towards them, trying to assuage their concerns, as he recovered and continued to say, “This was found at the shine near your clinic, Gensai-sensei, Takani-sensei.”

Rolling thunder drowned out whatever other words any of them were about to say, but as the thunder subsided, a new noise took its place and Susumu realized that it was shouts and pounding footsteps on muddy streets. Sliding the door open, he peeked out and could faintly see a group of people, dark-uniformed running down the street towards the clinic. What identified them as policemen was the fact that even though mud flew everywhere as the rain soaked through their clothes, their footsteps never faltered.

However, in the midst of the marching policemen, there was someone who was trussed up and tied down in ropes. In the flash of lightning that illuminated the scene, Susumu saw small flecks of red and reedy bamboo stuck in the man's hair, along with the fact that it seemed that the man's forearms had been stabbed by something and were bleeding. Putting the flecks of red and bamboo in the hair together, he realized that they were remnants of the broken umbrella that Yuki had used.

He was not the only one to come to the conclusion, for Okita immediately stepped out, not bothering to open his umbrella and as soon as the police group passed the clinic, he followed them. Susumu scrambled slightly to catch up to the ex-Shinsengumi, giving Dr. Takani and Dr. Gensai both a hasty farewell before catching up with the quick-walking Okita. The demeanor that Okita now sported, even when Susumu tried to shove his own umbrella into the man's hands (who refused it by glaring at him) was quite frightening, for there was a frigid air about him. Susumu wisely did not attempt to talk or even try to stop Okita from continuing to follow the policemen.

“Oy!”

That one familiar shout, remarkably sounding over the thunder and torrential downpour, did cause Okita to pause and look back, just as Susumu did too. “What the hell are you doing here?” Susumu shouted as he saw Tetsu run through the muddy street as fast as he could, clutching something in his hand.

His friend skidded to a stop, but gave a start as Susumu saw his eyes take a quick glance at Okita and the cold expression upon the man's face. Fortunately, Tetsu's surprise was short-lived as he said, “I was on my way to an inn for the night when I ran into a girl who said that Myoujin Yahiko was fighting off people who had tried to abduct her. I found this, but I didn't find the kid.”

In the darkness, Susumu could barely make out what looked like to be the handle end of a shinai. However, the sharp ends of the area where it had been broken made him pause for a moment as he remembered seeing wounds on the arms of the man who was being escorted by police. There was no blood on the remains of shinai, and if there had been, then it would have all been washed away by the rain anyways. Still, his gut was telling him that this broken shinai, along with the shattered pieces of the umbrella and the flecks in the man's hair were all somehow related.

“Yuki did not return home yet,” he supplied, “but the police caught someone whom he may have encountered. There's wounds on the man's arms, but I have a hunch that those wounds might have been caused by something like this broken shinai handle.”

“Let us go see they are indeed, connected,” Okita said, though the tone of his voice was quite cold.

The three of them hurried after the policemen, though in the short trip to the nearest station, the wind started dying down as the worst of the storm tapered. It was still raining by the time the got there, but it was no longer a drenching rain. However, two guardsmen in entrance to the station blocked them from entering. It was procedure for them to do such a thing to civilians, to keep curious passerbys, even in such foul weather, from starting a commotion within the station. Tetsu, though, looked like he was having none of it, but before he could say a word, Susumu saw Okita clamp a hand on Tetsu's shoulder, to keep him from saying anything rash.

“What are you doing here?” came the quiet, but curious voice from their right.

They glanced over to see Himura Kenshin step into the station's front entrance lantern light, looking just as soaked through as they did, but holding his sakabatou in a guarded manner.

“I-I found this,” Tetsu began, stepping away as Okita released his grip on his shoulder. Susumu saw Tetsu hold up the broken shinai as he continued to say, “A girl ran into me and said that Myoujin Yahiko was fighting a few of her captors. I sent her to this station and went to where she said he was. I didn't see him anywhere, but I found this.” As Himura gingerly took the broken shinai, Susumu barely heard Tetsu whisper, “I'm sorry.”

A brief, stony look crossed the ex-hitokiri's features for a moment as Susumu saw him grip the handle of the shinai tightly before the look passed. However, before Himura could say a word, it was Okita who said, “The police have a man in their custody, whom both my son, whom has not returned home yet, and Myoujin-kun may have encountered tonight.”

“I will speak with Chief Uramura, that I will, to allow the three of you to accompany me in,” Himura said, nodding. “As for the girl who ran into you, Tetsunosuke, thank you for saving her life. Tsubame-dono is recovering and is currently resting in one of the empty offices in this station. This one was alerted by passing policemen about Tsubame-dono's safe return and Yahiko's disappearance. A sweep of the area where policemen thought they saw something suspicious yielded nothing about Yahiko's whereabouts. Please wait a moment.”

The ex-hitokiri quickly swept into the small courtyard of the station, and entered the building. A few long moments later, another policeman exited the building and approached the entrance. Susumu saw the policeman say a few words to the guardsmen before the guardsmen relaxed their tense station and gestured for the three to enter.

In the building, the three of them tried to dry themselves as best as they could, before an escort led them to the area where Himura and other policemen were. They were briefly introduced to the chief of this station, a bespectacled man named Uramura, and then led into an interrogation room. It had not escaped Susumu's notice that as soon as Tetsu had been introduced to Uramura, the chief had quickly raised his eyebrows in surprise before smoothing his face out to a neutral look. Somehow, he could not shake the feeling that Uramura knew of Tetsu from other means not related to the Kyoto incident during the summer, though Tetsu clearly indicated that he did not know Uramura.

In the interrogation room, Susumu saw that the injured man was tied up against a pole, with a gag around his mouth. Against the flickering lanterns and oil lamps that lit the stuffy and wet-smelling room, one of the policemen was attempting to line up what was left of the shinai handle against the still-bleeding wrist wounds. After a moment, the policeman stepped back and gave a nod to one of his colleagues. Another policeman had come up to both he and Okita, and the two of them handed over the remnants of the red umbrella. That was taken to a corner of the room and compared to the flecks of red and shards of bamboo that had been picked off the scalp of the kidnapper.

“Undo the gag,” Uramura ordered.

One of the policemen in the room nodded and quickly stepped in and untied the cloth. However, as soon as the man stepped back, Susumu sensed something wrong. Even before he realized he was moving, his mind had already come to the correct conclusion as he reacted by lunging towards the kidnapper. With his left and right hands' fingers pressed together, he pummeled the man with several different pressure points before the man could even attempt to bite down on his tongue.

The only sound the man could now make, having been hit with several paralyzing points was to gasp as his jaw hung half-way open in the attempt to bite and bleed himself to death. Susumu stepped back just as one of the policemen forcefully jerked him back with a yank on his shoulder. He yielded and took a few more steps back before looking over towards Uramura, saying, “He was about to bite through his tongue.”

“Gag him again,” the chief said, gesturing to the officer who had initially released the kidnapper from his gag.

“Use a leather strap or belt,” Susumu suggested, feeling the brief surge of adrenaline leave him, before glancing over towards the policeman who still had his grip upon his shoulder. “The man's teeth looked unusually sharp, so he might be able to cut through cloth faster than leather.”

Uramura gave him a long look before nodding and gesturing for one of the officers to go get something thick and leather. As the policeman left, out of the corner of his eyes, Susumu saw Himura approach the policeman who held the broken shinai. The ex-hitokiri's stance was guarded, but he thought he could see a sense of frustration unlike that of Tetsu within the stance. Returning his attention to the kidnapper, though the man could not move, he definitely saw a gleam of fear in the man's eye, and it was not directed at the ice-cold glare coming from Okita. Instead, it was directed at Himura, and it made him quite curious.

“Himura-san, Shirou-san, Ichimura-san, and Yamazaki-sensei,” Uramura spoke up, interrupting Susumu's observations. “I humbly apologize, but it seems that we will not be able to interrogate and receive answers any time soon. If the four of you would please give your statements to the officers outside, it would be much appreciated. Also, Himura-san and Shirou-san, please go to the main station tomorrow morning and give the officers there a description of the missing children. We already have a taskforce in place to search for other missing children and will add Myoujin Yahiko and Shirou Yukimura to that list.”

“Taskforce?” Tetsu immediately questioned, frowning. “Just how many children have gone missing?”

Uramura looked as if he did not want to answer the question, especially to a civilian, but it was the concerned look that Himura had as he too, looked over towards the station chief, that caused him to relent. Pushing his glasses up slightly, the station chief sighed and said, “Normally, we only get three or four reported cases a year in the country, but ever since the summer, the missing children have grown at least ten-fold.”

Susumu was not the only one to stare at the officer in shock as he realized that with the lack of manpower, especially since most of the cities' police had been decimated by the summer events, there was little to spare to even look for the missing children. Most of the remaining officers were keeping law and order as best as they could. There was an air of desperation that seemed to saturate the place, and it was also then that he realized that this man who had been captured, was the police's first big break in trying to crack the case.

“Uramura-dono,” Himura quietly said, taking a step forward. “How can I--” Susumu saw Himura glance over towards Okita who had inclined his head slightly, “How can _we_ help?”

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kludge of real-life crashed upon me again, so I apologize for posting this late. I also sincerely apologize if all characters seem slightly off, especially when compared to the Remnants story. I'll try my best to continue to re-capture their voices and views.
> 
> However, I hope you guys enjoyed Yahiko's POV. I tried to cast him in a post-one-year after Jinchuu personality, but before he receives the sakabatou from Kenshin. So he's growing, but he's not quite there yet. Also, this chapter was actually supposed to end in the morning with another scene, but after writing five chapters for a day's events, I figured that that particular morning scene would do better in the next chapter. Cheers and see you in the next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

Daybreak finally broke through the thick clouds, revealing the devastation wrecked by the night's storm. Canals that ran through Tokyo were swollen with rainwater and had flooded houses in the path that they ran along. Strong winds that had howled almost all night long had torn not only thatched roofs but also tiled ones off, sent debris scattering through the roads. The already thinned ranks of Tokyo's Police Force, due to the summer's events, were hard-pressed to keep order and to assist the citizens of the city in the clean up. The capitol was also not the only place to have been affected by the great storm which had ushered in chillier temperatures and a cool breeze that told of a cold winter that was approaching. Several other towns that surrounded the city had also been affected, and there were only so much people to go around to help those who had been adversely affected by the storm.

Even with the sun's warmth seemingly weaker now that the storm had finally passed, Kenshin blinked as he glanced up to see wisps of white clouds that dotted the blue skies. Despite the devastation that had been wrought by the storm, there was a sense of calm in the air, though it was not within his mind or soul. He had been very fortunate that where he and Kaoru lived, though it was near one of the main canals that ran through the city, they had not been affected by the flooding or high winds.

However, neighbors of their had, and even before the sun had risen, they had agreed to open their home to help their neighbors. Those who needed a temporary place to stay had gratefully accepted their hospitality, and when they had inquired about the whereabouts of Yahiko, neither Kenshin or Kaoru said much. But he had to give his neighbors more credit than was due – somehow, even without directly saying it, their neighbors knew that Yahiko was missing, though most of them presumed that the boy had gone off during the middle of the storm to help those at the Akabeko. Kenshin had not corrected them – he did not want to get more people involved than was necessary, and thus asked that they concentrate on recovering from their losses and allow him to search for the boy.

He did, however, inform Kaoru of his intent in the search, and of what had happened last night with the unexpected meeting of Tetsunosuke, Dr. Yamazaki, and Okita. Kaoru had nodded and ever so stubborn and determined, she had said for him to not worry about her, the unborn child, or their health and concentrate on finding Yahiko. He was also consoled by the fact that the neighbors were also caring for her, allowing him to search without worry about her in his mind.

“Himura-san.”

Kenshin brought his gaze from the open skies back down, slightly surprised at himself for allowing his mind to wander so much. He gave a nod in greeting to the person who had called out his name, no longer needing to quash the heightened sense of danger he used to have whenever this particular man showed up.

“Shirou-sensei,” he greeted, careful to use Okita Souji's alias, especially while in public. As per the law, Okita did not carry a sword, with the summer's incident being the only time where permission had been temporarily granted. The two silently started walking down the street, headed towards the main police station.

It had initially saddened him to hear that the young apprentice of Okita's was also missing, but as the night had worn on and evidence pointing to the captured bandit having encountered _both_ Yahiko and Yuki in his attempt to re-capture Tsubame, he had grown angry. Tsubame had told the police that Yahiko had initially been where she and two other urchins had been taken to, and that the last she saw of him was that the boy had been valiantly fighting against five bandits. Tetsunosuke had been the second person she had encountered, but it was Yuki whom she had finally ran into, whom Tsubame had said faced the captured bandit and _someone_ else. Due to the darkness and the downpour, Tsubame had not been able clearly see who it was, other than the person moved incredibly fast.

Unfortunately, the interrogation of the captured bandit could not be done, due to the fact that every time the police had allowed Dr. Yamazaki to reverse the pressure points, the bandit always attempted to take his own life. There was no type of pressure point application that would allow the captured man to speak without trying to bite through his tongue. Uramura had stated that he would work with the others on trying other methods, though Kenshin was well aware that 'other methods' was a nicer word for torture, and thus he had merely nodded and took his leave to take Tsubame home.

With the girl safely home, he still needed to formally report Yahiko's disappearance to the police, thus the morning meet up with Okita. The dojo master was also reporting Yuki's disappearance, but both of them had come to an agreement to try to find out more information on not only the missing boys, but also other children who had disappeared. Tetsunosuke had told them that he would spread the word about missing children in Yokohama, hoping that his contacts at not only the docks, but also different vendors he did business with, may turn up something. Dr. Yamazaki had promised that he would do all that he could in locating the missing, but informed them that there was a patient currently in his care who was the victim of a domestic issue he had to help settle and ensure that the police knew about.

Kenshin had not inquired about the issue, but he had seen the concern in the doctor's eyes when he had mentioned the patient. He could also see that though the doctor wanted to help search for the missing children, he knew that it was selfish of him to focus on such a narrow point of view in the face of such a natural disaster that had happened. There would be many people that needed the doctor's help in the coming days. It had been Okita, who had assuaged the doctor of his torn loyalties.

“With what the storm did, it would be easy for bandits to kidnap more children in the coming days,” he heard Okita murmur as Kenshin glanced around, looking at the various young children who ran around, chasing each other for fun, while adults around them worked to clear the debris. Their cheerful laughter filled the air, and Kenshin was greatly reminded at just how carefree the sound was to his ears, as an unbidden memory of the short, peaceful time he had spent with Tomoe in Otsu surfaced.

“With this many policemen out, they would not try to kidnap here,” he quietly answered. “New kidnappings would most likely happen near the outskirts, that they would.”

“True,” the dojo master agreed. “However, given the boldness of the bandits with yesterday's kidnapping of that young woman from the Akabeko, and of the fact that they were not that far along the road to Yokohama when Myoujin-kun caught up to them, they might try.”

Silence fell between the two warriors as they continued on their journey towards the station, and after a few more turns on the streets, they finally stopped at the entrance to the enormous station. Kenshin had never been here before, having met all of this contacts in the police force in the smaller substations around Tokyo, or in the case of last year's incident with Shishio, in Kyoto. The building that stood before them, walled off with tall and foreboding black iron gates, was Japanese in design, but had the mixed aesthetics of western architecture integrated into it, expanding it from its former Japanese construction.

“Pardon us,” Okita spoke up, tone and manner quite polite and almost in deference, “but we were told by Chief Uramura of the southwestern substations to report the case of two missing children here.”

Kenshin saw the guards glance at each other for a moment before one of the guards asked, “Names?”

“Himura Kenshin,” Kenshin answered, surprised that the guards had not even attempted to arrest him for carrying a sword and going against the law. He was however, not surprised that the police did not recognize him – the southwestern district in Tokyo was more familiar with him and the fact that Uramura had given him authorization last spring to carry a sword.

“Shirou Kaneyoshi,” Okita said, as the clatter of a horse-drawn carriage halted behind them.

“Who gave you authorization to carry a sword on your persons, Himura-san?” the same guard asked, the tone of his voice surprisingly calm, but still authoritative.

“I gave it,” a grizzled, but commanding voice said from behind the two of them.

“Yamagata-san,” he said, nearly whispering the name as both he and Okita turned to see a neatly dressed man in a pristine white uniform approach.

“Sir!” the officer who had questioned them said, snapping up and gave a salute, as did the other guardsman.

“Allow them through, officer,” Yamagata ordered.

“At once,” the other guardsman said as they stepped back and held their rifles at attention.

“Come,” Yamagata said, and strode forward. Silently, the two of them followed, though Kenshin had a feeling that the timing of Yamagata's arrival at the main station was not a coincidence.

Upon entering the building, there was quite a bit of noise, and Kenshin was surprised to see just how many desks and officers there were in the main area. A few of the policemen had looked up as Yamagata entered, but it seemed that they were used to the commander of the Imperial Army coming and going from the place that they did not greet him. Only those within a normal bowing distance or were walking past Yamagata greeted the Field Marshal. Kenshin had to remind himself that most of Tokyo had been emptied of her police force when Saigo Takamori's rebellion happened – the core of the Imperial Army had been staffed by the Tokyo Police Force.

A few gave curious glances over to both him and Okita, but for the most part, they were ignored, and as they ascended the stairs to the second floor of the building, still following the sagely man, Kenshin could not help but wonder if Yamagata knew of what had happened last night. He wouldn't put it past him that he did – even before the Meiji Revolution had ended, Yamagata had been known to be a very shrewd commander, almost as brilliant as Katsura, Takasugi, and Saigo.

At long last, they entered a rather spacious, but austere-looking room that contained only a desk and two tall shelves that were stacked with many books. Okita slid the door close behind them as Kenshin stood near the chairs that had been set out before the desk. Yamagata had taken a seat on the chair behind the desk and had weaved his gloved hands together, staring at both of them with a calculating look.

“Chief Uramura was kind enough to inform me last night of what happened,” Yamagata began without preamble. “Neither of you are of the police force and though it is not a national crisis that governs our need for your help again, I find myself asking for that help again.”

“When we offered Chief Uramura our assistance in the matter, it was sincere, that it was,” Kenshin cautiously said, wondering why, if Uramura had told Yamagata of what had happened, why Yamagata was asking them again.

“Yes, Himura-kun,” Yamagata answered, nodding slightly, “I know. This commitment will require formality that has never been given to civilians.”

“Would that formal authority be of our own or of the office that you command, Yamagata-sama?” Okita spoke up, cutting straight through the Field Marshal's vague words, as Kenshin glanced over and saw that there was a clear frown on the dojo master's expression. The question was not worded rudely or spoken in a condescending tone, but Kenshin knew enough of Yamagata's prickly personality to mentally wince at the presentation of the question.

“Ah,” Yamagata answered, the neutral expression on his face lifting slightly as Kenshin looked back and saw a ghost of a smile on the man's face. “Ever so quick in discerning words...and as expected from a former Shinsengumi captain.”

Silence answered the comment from the Field Marshal, as Kenshin kept his gaze on Yamagata, rather than look over to see what Okita's reaction was. Fortunately, Yamagata did not let the silence linger and said, “Tennen Rishin Ryu was a distinctive sword form that few had mastered. With almost all of its masters and practitioners dead after the revolution, it seemed that the sword form would never again see the light of day. The fact that some of the dead bodies of the enemy shinobi who attacked Kyoto during the summer showed signs of trauma that were different than those inflicted by the allied shinobi and of Saitou-kun, Shinomori-kun, and Himura-kun, was curious to me. I've seen how masters of the form killed their opponents during the revolution. Nagakura Shinpachi-kun and Saitou-kun are the only known Shinsengumi captains who were also masters in their own forms to have survived, but Nagakura-kun was confirmed by my agents to not even be remotely anywhere near Kyoto during the summer. To see the bodies of our enemies killed by a form thought dead...well...”

“Though not all practitioners of Tennen Rishin Ryu were of the Shinsengumi, Yamagata-sama,” Kenshin heard Okita carefully answer, though the tone of the man's words were colored by inevitability.

“Saitou-kun would never have recruited or accepted the help of any persons for his investigative mission in Kyoto except for those he trusted,” Yamagata said, smiling, though Kenshin noted that the smile was not friendly at all.

Sensing that this was going down a path that was not going to end well, he interrupted, taking a step forward to break the tension in the air and said, “Yamagata-san, if given the authority of your office in a similar capacity that you have given to your agents, what would you have us do?”

“Confirm if the bandits are organized or we've been dealing with random kidnappings. If they are indeed organized, find out where they are taking the children and why,” Yamagata said after a moment, leaning back in his chair while unfolding his hands and let his arms rest on the top of table. “In all of your wanderings since the end of the revolution, Himura-kun, have you never encountered such evil such as this?”

“I did what I could to help those suffering,” Kenshin answered before pausing to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he continued, saying, “However, this will be my final time helping the government in such an enormous capacity. Please understand and accept that my wandering has already come to an end.”

“What of you, Okita Souji-kun?” Yamagata said, turning his gaze towards Okita.

In a polite tone that did not even betray a hint of strife that Kenshin could only assume Okita to be feeling from the relentless unraveling of just how the Field Marshal had discovered Okita's identity, he heard the dojo master say, “I will do as you request, but like Himura-san here, my journey too, has come to an end and I wish only to live in peace.”

Kenshin saw a thin-lipped but understanding smile appear on Yamagata's face, as the man nodded once in acceptance of their answers and reached towards the side of the desk to withdraw something from a drawer. Though he had expected Okita's answer to be similar to his, he still found it slightly surprising to hear it said so. The mentality and drive to purge what Okita and Saitou saw as 'evil' and 'corrupt' in both of their eyes was similar, and of what little he knew of Okita before and after the revolution, he thought that the man would have jumped at a chance to serve the police force in a limited capacity due to his health. It seemed that time changed all of them – even Saitou, though Kenshin knew that the man would _never_ admit it.

Two folded pieces of paper were pulled out and placed on the desk as Yamagata said, “These are the authorization papers that you will have to carry with you in your investigation. There are some agents in the country who are working on the case, but their orders are different from yours. I do not have any more resources to spare, but both of you are authorized to also carry your swords. I pray that you do not have to use them.”

Both Kenshin and Okita stepped up as the Field Marshal fell silent and took the pieces of paper. As they stepped back and bowed slightly towards Yamagata, not another word was exchanged and shortly thereafter, they left. Outside of the office, there was a young officer, dressed in a grey uniform who immediately bowed towards the two of them, saying, “I am Sato, and have been assigned by Yamagata-sama to give you the latest information that we have. If you would please follow me, Himura-san and Shirou-sensei, we can take down the names and description of the missing.”

The walk down to the first floor of the station and across the main area and down a quieter hall towards their destination was undisturbed, through again, both men garnered a few curious looks from the policemen they passed. Kenshin was well aware that it was probably very unusual to see civilians freely wandering around, especially since most civilians that passed through the station were arrested criminals and were tied up.

Surprisingly though, Kenshin thought he saw he heard the familiar voice of Dr. Yamazaki echo down another hall, describing a non-invasive examination procedure that should be done with a dead body. Not a few seconds later, his assumption was confirmed as near an intersection of halls in the building, he saw the doctor and another grey uniformed officer, whom he remembered seeing yesterday investigating the suicide scene, pass. The doctor seemed oblivious to Kenshin and Okita, but neither men called out towards the doctor, and Kenshin could only assume that in reporting whatever he had to for his night patient, the police had also asked him to lend his expertise in examining the person who committed suicide.

As soon as the three of them entered the room, he could not help but widen his eyes in surprise at just how many stacks of paper there were on the tables that lined the room. Each stack was at least two-and-a-half hands tall, with a few reaching about four. There were several chairs in the room, but no one else was occupying them.

“I apologize, Himura-san and Shirou-sensei,” Sato said, scratching the back of his head slightly as he walked over to an empty part of the table to retrieve a blank sheet, along with an ink stone and brush. “They had five of us assigned to this division, but since the summer, my four colleagues have been reassigned elsewhere and outside of Tokyo.”

“What would you have us do, Sato-san?” Okita politely asked.

“Well, after taking down the descriptions of the missing, these stacks contain the reports of others missing, along with the approximate time and location, though accuracy on the time is questionable. Each stack is organized by city, with some of the surrounding villages incorporated into the report. Notes from other cities' investigators are in the report, so if we find anything of our own or spot the missing, we let everyone else working on this know. Since most of the telegraph lines to other major cities are not fully repaired just yet, we've been sending any updates by boat, rider, or if we can, by train. I'm hoping that with fresh eyes, both of you can find patterns or anything that we may have missed.”

“We'll try our best, that we will,” Kenshin answered.

~~~

Hours passed, but none of the three men had moved at all from the room. Okita's sword and medication had been retrieved by junior officers, and someone had brought some tea, but it was barely touched. Rustle of paper being rifled through was the only sound that filled the air.

However, that silence of concentration was broken when Kenshin heard Okita cough and glanced over to see the former Shinsengumi merely take a sip from his mug before resuming his reading of the report. He too looked back towards his own stack of reports, knowing that worry over the health of his comrade was quite futile. Putting his current report in another stack, he gave a start as he stared at the name and the rough sketch of the next kidnapped child.

[ **Fujita Eiji/Mishima Eiji** ]

“Eiji,” he whispered, feeling a mix of anger and sadness briefly fill him as he stared at the date and approximate time. The boy had only been missing for three to four days already...and it had been Fujita Tokio who reported him missing. He had not seen Saitou anywhere in the main station this morning, and he didn't even know if Saitou worked at the station or not. Considering the man's temperament, he could only imagine how frustrated he was about the lack of clues as to the whereabouts of his missing adopted son.

“Pardon?” Sato asked, getting up from where he was sitting, sifting through a stack of Nagoya reports. The officer peered over and merely said, “Ah...yes... Fujita Eiji was our most recent missing person until the two boys. However, I think there might be a commonality between how all three boys went missing.” Sato made a gesture and Kenshin handed him the report, and the officer flipped to another page, pointing to the description that had been written down.

“Fujita Eiji did not return home after running an evening errand to Tokyo Central's Main Police Station. Fujita Tokio, the boy's mother, went to station two-and-a-half hours after child's time of departure from home, which was at half-past eight in the western time. Lieutenant Fujita Gorou, the boy's father and a member of the Tokyo Police Force, reported that the child had departed at quarter after nine in the western time, after completing his errand. Suspected abduction is thought to have happened while the boy was in transit between the station and his home.”

Sato paused for a moment before saying, “that sounds similar to how Myoujin-kun and your son, Shirou-sensei, were abducted...while in transit.”

“And most likely how Tsubame-chan was abducted,” Okita pointed out. “She was the catalyst for the kidnappings yesterday, because it seems that both Myoujin-kun and Yukimura encountered the bandits who tried to recapture her.”

“Yes, but the curious question would be, why did they want to capture this girl?” Sato mused. “Is she someone both of you know?”

Before Kenshin could answer the officer, the pounding of footsteps outside of the room, along with some shouts interrupted them. His sixth sense told him that it had something to do with the missing persons – perhaps Uramura and his people had finally gotten the bandit to confess. Striding across the room, he slid the door open and heard the shouts of officers being called to bear arms and hurry to an incident that was forming. It was what they said that got his attention – there was another person threatening the safety of the public and shouting about today's chapter on Sakamoto Ryouma's life – and he was not the only one to react to it, hearing Okita also snatch up his sword and join him.

“Sato-dono, I think this may be how they're trying to capture the children,” he said, turning slightly before stepping out and joining the officers that were already being called to respond.

Following the policemen through the main area, briefly caught a glimpse of Saitou descending the stairs, before he continued on. As he ran with the officers, with the dull ache lancing through body, telling him that he should not sustain such a pace for long, and glancing from side to side to see Okita and Sato running beside him, he said, “It is only a hunch, that it is, but I suspect that the bandits used a distraction such as this to kidnap the child.”

“The area is full of shops,” Sato answered. “However, with the irrigation canal that runs through the back end of the shops flooded, it may be the best area to take a child off the streets. You two go on ahead as fast as you can. I will let the other officers know and try to circle around so that we can possibly cut off the bandit.”

“There should be a bridge down past the willow tree on this intersecting street, Sato-san. If it is not washed away, going across it will give you a short cut to run parallel to the canal through the alleyways,” Okita advised. “If that bridge is washed away, then there is a higher one built further down.”

Kenshin saw the officer nod curtly and fall back to gather other officers. He poured more speed into his legs and turned down a street to get as close to the flooded canal as possible. The area where they were headed towards was one of the more popular districts of Tokyo, where there were many trinket shops for tourists and for natives to enjoy and buy, especially for the autumnal festivals. It had, unfortunately, also been quite affected by last night's storms, and thus there were many people rebuilding over there. One would have thought it insane to try to kidnap a child from the area where there were many witnesses, but Okita's words about the boldness of the bandits earlier in the day echoed in his mind.

Okita kept pace with him, but he could see his eyes flicker everywhere, as if observing and evaluating everything around him as a potential threat. While Kenshin was not doubtful of his own abilities to try to catch the possibly bandit, he was well aware that chasing down criminals on foot was not his forte. During the revolution, he was usually the one being chased. Assassinations that he had carried out were in secret and away from the public eye. He was not a peacekeeping agent during those bloody years, but now, he would learn from the best, from Okita, and apply his skills to make sure that no more children were abducted.

“Go towards the canal, Himura-san,” Okita said before peeling off towards another street.

Kenshin saw the man disappear into the crowds, somehow navigating through the people who were carrying reeds of bamboo and other building materials with ease. More than a few, though, were surging towards the area where the man wielding a sword was. He concentrated on his own route, noting that a few of the houses and shops in the area had parts of their roofs torn off. Slowing down and muttering a polite excuse towards people he accidentally bumped into in his hurried run, he finally cleared the crowds after a few minutes and scanned his surroundings.

It was quiet in the streets as he could hear in the distance, the rushing water of the overflowing irrigation canal drive its way down. Entrance after entrance to either side of the alleyways that intersected the street he was on showed only very few people; some milling about, others sitting slumped on the ground, just staring up at the devastation that had been wrought to their home. He wanted to help them, wanted to assist in their recovery, but he couldn't – his hunch was too great of a thing to ignore, and thus, he pushed on.

He was getting nearer to the canal, and---there! Skidding to a stop in the muddy street, he peered down an alleyway and saw several men, each holding a sack of some sorts, slung across their back. In the looming shadow of the morning rays of the sun, cast upon the buildings so that it made the area quite dark and hard to see, he thought he saw the sacks move. A few moments later, he did have his confirmation, two of the five sacks that the men were carrying were moving.

Shouting would only draw their attention, and so as quietly as he could, he started walking towards the men, drawing upon the long-buried instinct of hunting down a assassination target. Ducking into another alleyway when he thought the men were getting suspicious, he managed to evade being seen, but as soon as he re-emerged, he knew that it was too late. The men were incredibly suspicious, and they had started to run, with the sacks making some noise of protest upon being bounced up and down against their backs.

Kenshin discarded stealth and gave a challenging roar as he sprinted towards the men. Though burdened with weight, he was surprised to see the bandits continue to run, and _increase_ their speed, keeping a fair distance between them and him. The dull ache he felt each day now blossomed into acute pain, as it coursed through his body. He could feel the protest of his muscles and bone towards how much speed he was trying to put into his legs to catch up to the kidnappers. Ignoring it, and the burning sensation that was crawling up his legs, he continued to try to catch up.

At another small intersection in the alleyways, the bandits suddenly made a turn towards the canal, and moments later, he saw who had exactly made them do such a thing. Okita had come from another area, spotting the same bandits as he did, and his presence, was quite menacing. He had only moments to see the quick hand signal that Okita gave, before the dojo master disappeared down another alleyway, trying to intercept the bandits again. With those hand signals, Kenshin knew that it was his job to 'herd' the bandits towards wherever the former Shinsengumi was going to be. There was also Sato and the other policemen to help with the intercept, and so he turned down the same alleyway that the bandits were on and continued pursuit.

_ How the tide has turned _ , he briefly thought with irony as he followed the bandits. At the final alleyway that was parallel to the swollen canal, he saw the bandits turn towards it, splashing in the ankle-high water as they continued to run. Minutes later, the pursued and pursuer ran out into the open clearing, just before the northern area of Tokyo led into wooded forests and allowed the river to flow into the irrigation canal. Okita appeared from the left area of the open clearing, driving the bandits towards the wall of officers who were waiting at the north entrance. With Kenshin to the bandits' south, Okita to their west, Sato and the policemen at the north, and a swollen and swiftly-moving river-canal to the east, the bandits were effectively surrounded.

Unexpectedly, instead of peacefully surrendering to such an overwhelming force, Kenshin's eyes widened of their own accord as the bandits suddenly  _ threw _ their sacks towards Sato and the other policemen. Surprise gripped the officers as many of them dropped their wooden batons or in the case of Sato, sheathed his sabre, and caught the sacks. The weight of the children in the sacks bowled the officers back, giving the bandits the necessary opening to escape.

“Go!” Kenshin heard Sato shout as he and the other officers tried to recover from being knocked over.

He had only a glimpse of the sacks being unlaced and saw a small tuft of hair belonging to one of the children in one of the sacks as he heard and saw Okita join up. With no time to waste and the bandits already headed towards the woods, the two of them continued to pursue their prey.

* * *

The pounding pressure in his head seemed to grow as he clawed his way to consciousness, and as he surfaced, he could hear the shuffling of feet, and murmurs of whispers. He gradually became aware that he was lying on something hard, with his body and neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. His fingers tingled and when a cool breeze blew across him, he felt a chill shoot all over his body. It was that chill that finally forced him to open his eyes as he gasped, taking in a lung full of air and found himself staring at a pair of concerned eyes that was framed by dark hair.

“Shh,” the boy said, shaking his head slightly as the headache he was feeling leveled out to a dull throb as the chill continued to make its way through his body. He knew that it was only because his clothes were still damp and not fully dried out. The boy also looked around, rubbing his tied hands together, seemingly trying to get warmth in them. He too looked as much as his headache and his eyes would allow – seeing that he was half-slumped against the borders of a caged wagon, with his hands and feet bound by rough, thick rope. Other boys and girls were lying about, with sullen looks on their face, but he could see fear in their eyes. There were coverings bunched upon the top area of the wagon, and it looked like their captors were not sitting at the front, for they were stationary and the two horses were still tied to the wagon.

“They're over there,” the boy whispered, as he gestured with a nod of his chin towards an area behind Yahiko. Still remaining as silent as possible, Yahiko half-rolled and saw a few people gathered around another wagon – this one containing only three children and were also loading rocks into the back. There was another person, seemingly standing off beyond the second wagon, as if on the lookout. However, a white cloak was draped on the person's body, and he briefly wondered if that white-cloaked person was the same woman who had knocked him out. Even if it wasn't, he couldn't get a good reading on the person – it was as if the person's _ken-ki_ did not exist.

It was through that thought that the memories of what happened last night (or whenever that night was, for he wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious) came rushing back. Upon trying to open his mouth to speak, pain seared through him, causing him to grunt in pain as he closed his mouth again. His eyes watered in pain as a shadow crossed his vision and a cool touch was on the bottom of his jaw to try to alleviate the pain.

When it finally subsided, he opened his eyes again as he heard the boy said, “You're lucky that whatever hit you sustained there did not break your jaw. It looks very bruised, so you're not going to be able to talk much.”

_Or eat much_ , he groused, but blinked as he took a closer look at the boy who had placed an odd-looking leaf back down, glancing over his head to make sure that their captors had not heard his cries of pain. Pulling on the boy's sleeve, he managed to mumble the word for “familiar” out before the pain became a little too much to bear again.

“We've met before,” the boy said. “Probably yesterday afternoon, judging from the state of our clothes. They're still pretty damp. I'm just glad this herb leaf Takani-sensei gave me still works, considering that the rain from last night has all but made it wilted. I'm Shirou Yukimura, but you can call me Yuki, Myoujin-san.”

Yahiko nodded as he remembered meeting the boy whom Kenshin and Kaoru had spoken of when they had been in Kyoto during the summer. Kenshin had told him that the boy had been quite helpful during the defense of the city in identifying trouble spots during the attack. Other than that, he didn't really know anything else about the boy except that he thought he sensed an undercurrent of frustration bleeding off of him. With the situation they were in, Yahiko couldn't blame him.

Shaking his head slightly, he managed to say, “Yahiko.”

“So how did you get involved in this?”

“Tsubame,” he stated.

“Oh, was it that girl?” Yuki asked, and Yahiko nodded. “I saw a bandit chasing her near the temple that's near Gensai-sensei's clinic, as she was headed to the police station. Couldn't let a girl get caught by someone like that, so tried to stop him. I assume you did too? Did she make it to the police station?”

He shook his head negative before shrugging his shoulders – he didn't even know that Tsubame was headed towards a police station when he faced down the goons who had tried to abduct her. However, it made him smile a bit, though that too was painful, to know that she was not among the two wagons containing children. He was curious, though, as to why the boy was at Gensai-sensei's clinic so late at night, and asked, “Doctor?”

“My mother and father allowed me to continue studying medicine with Yamazaki-sensei,” the boy said, though the tone of his voice had become a bit melancholic. The boy fell silent for a moment, staring out at the area where the bandits loading rocks into the second wagon were. “Though I sometimes suspect that neither of them want me to become a sword-bearing policeman when I come of age.”

He was not sure how to respond to that last comment, for he wasn't sure if that whispered confession was supposed to be heard by him. He let it be and said, “Thanks.”

Yuki nodded before taking another glance above and across Yahiko's head, and frowned slightly. Yahiko also glanced towards the direction as did the other children in the wagon, only to see that the person in the white cloak was turning back towards them while gesturing quite angrily...at least he thought it was angrily, even though he still could not feel the person's  _ken-ki_ . Something was happening and two of the bandits were running towards their wagon while the other two had hopped onto the other one, yanked down its coverings, and were driving the horses to go.

“Help us!” he heard Yuki scream as loud as he could from beside him. Other children, spurred on by the sudden actions of the boy, also started shouting.

Yahiko wanted to join them, but he couldn't and as the bandits jumped to the front of the wagon, yanked the cloth covering down over the cage, and slapped the reigns of the horses to go, the jerk made all of them tumble over to the side. Pain exploded across his face as he inadvertently hit the floor of the wagon with his chin, crying out through clenched teeth. As darkness gathered in his eyes and soon sent him into oblivion, his last thoughts were only that he hoped that whoever had spurred the bandits to action would stop them and find the wagons.

* * *

As creaky as the ceiling sounded with the winds gusting outside of the area Tatsu and his wife were housed, it was surprisingly warm in the room, even though the fire in the in-ground hearth was only embers. For what used to be just a tiny fishing village that had almost no significant value to the country, it was only because of what happened towards the end of the revolution did this village suddenly become an important port.

Hakodate, the largest port on the southern most area of the island of Hokkaido, was home to a population who had been evacuated prior to the Imperial Army storming it to defeat the Ezo Republic rebels, and who had now resettled. It had also expanded in the years after the Shogunate was finally defeated, and with the star fort at the heart of the port city, it proved to be a formidable area to hold, should the Russian Empire come looking to invade. However, there was currently peace and trade between both countries, and it had weathered through the shake up that had rocked the mainland in the summer.

Because it was so isolated, especially during the autumn to spring when gale storms lashed the strait that separated Hokkaido from the rest of the country, it was also the perfect place for secrets to settle and grow. So Tatsu was not surprised that the organization that had hunted his wife and eventually him had chosen to establish a stronghold here. From the day they had been captured to brought here, five days had passed, and most of it had been in the hold of a speedy steam ship that most likely belonged to pirates or smugglers who had been paid by the organization to run as fast as possible up through the gauntlet of the western coast of the main island.

Both he and his wife had been bound and gagged, stored in the cargo hold and only fed some salty water and thin rice porridge whenever the bandits commandeering the ship remembered to feed them. It was now, sitting in this particular warm and inviting fishing hut in Hakodate, unbound and finally able to stretch out that Tatsu could smell fresh-cooked food being brought to them. They were quite weak, and as much as he wanted to run as soon as the door opened to bear two people bringing in several dishes on large trays, who were followed by a woman, he did not. It was futile to anyhow; both of them knew that they would not get far.

As soon as the people who had brought the food and set it down in front of Tatsu and his wife, left, the woman who had followed the attendants in said, “Please, do eat up.”

Tatsu warily watched the woman, who though slight in appearances, carried herself with a self-assured stance and held her head high that he thought she was a former samurai's daughter. The woman crossed to near the entrance of the house and plucked up two logs before she returned and knelt down before the hearth. Placing the two logs against each other so that they were vertically leaning against each other, she returned to the small log pile and plucked two more out. As soon as her small fire-building structure was done, she gently blew on the embers until the fire caught on the logs and started to burn them.

“Please Tatsunosuke-san and Oryou-san,” the woman said, looking up at the two of them, “please eat. They are not poisoned and I will not have honored guests starving themselves to death.”

Tatsu pressed his lips tightly together in anger – mostly angry at himself for not doing enough to protect his wife. He had thought that being hidden in Otsu and only letting certain people know of Sakamoto Oryou's existence was enough to keep her safely hidden away. She had even changed her name to Hanako and took his family name. The only reason she was hunted by the organization during the end days of the revolution was because the organization thought she had the same knowledge that her first husband, Sakamoto Ryouma, had. Tatsu had thought that he had kept his promise to Ryouma after Ryouma had been assassinated, but it seemed like he had not done enough and only caused her more grief.

The small clink of chopsticks on the rice bowl was heard from beside him as he glanced over to see that Oryou had started eating, though the way she chewed the food was quite slow and tense. Guilt swept over him as he hastily picked up his own bowl of rice and plucked a piece of fish from the plates and shoved it in his mouth. Letting his wife 'taste test' for him was embarrassing enough – he should have been the one doing that for her.

Husband and wife ate in silence for a few minutes, but after finishing about half of what was offered, Tatsu could not bring himself to eat anymore, even though his stomach said otherwise. Placing the chopsticks and bowl of rice back down, he folded his hands together and placed them on his lap as he glanced over at the mysterious woman who had brought them food. She was staring into the blazing fire at the hearth, sitting so still in seiza that it was as if she were a statue. In the firelight, Tatsu could see that there was a comely beauty about her, though even from this distance, he could see a few silver streaks in her hair. Wrinkles had not settled on her face just yet, but Tatsu could see the age in her eyes – she was definitely older than he thought or guessed she would be.

“Who are you?” he demanded, not caring if he was rude or blunt.

The woman merely turned her head towards them, and gave them a graceful nod of her head as she said, “I am Seta Yuna, descendant of the first master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Hiko Seijuurou, and also current leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards.”

* * *

_Year: Past, December 8, 1867_

 

“Thank you for making it as bloodless of a coup as possible, Sakamoto-san,” he said as he took a sip of the warm tea.

“It was my pleasure, Dragon-boy!” Sakamoto said, his words slurring slightly as he took another shot of the sake that was in his cup. “Though I tell ya, I had to butt heads with Katsura and the others quite a bit before they would agree to allow the blood in Kyoto to stop flowing.”

“Yes, and it is much appreciated, but from what I hear around, I don't know if the Shogun himself will just sit quietly and allow the Emperor to dictate the withdrawal,” Tatsu said before giving a great sigh. “I mean, the Shinsengumi are not the only ones around here doing 'good will' patrols. The Mimiwarigumi must also be gnashing their teeth, since they're staffed with more nobility than the Shinsengumi, and are probably incensed.”

“Hence why we have to be very careful from now on, Dragon-boy,” the seafarer cautioned. “Anyways, to business, even though I would love to catch up with you on hijinks that your brother has gotten up to.”

“Which would always inevitably turn into you waxing poetic about your wife, and how strong she was when she saved you,” Tatsu teased, but laughed along with Sakamoto. “I'll say this again, though – it's you who really needs to be careful. Bounties are out on you everywhere. We shouldn't have met _here_ tonight. Fushimi is Shinsengumi territory.”

“And what excuse would you have given to meet somewhere else other than the village that you are supposed to remain in?” Sakamoto tsked. “I even heard that your _fukuchou_ goes down to Osaka on his own now and does not send any other person to do his work.”

“So about the manuscript then,” Tatsu said, bringing them back to the main reason they had met under such dangerous conditions. “Is it safe?”

“Yes,” the samurai said, nodding his head. “It's in a place where only I and one other person knows about it, though that certain person does not have knowledge of the contents of the lockbox. I won't tell you where it is, Dragon-boy, because as much as we need to warn our respective people about these 'Chrysanthemum Guards' and their intent for the people and the country, its too dangerous. Just the other day, as I was traveling to here, I thought I sensed someone following me. This is a completely secret trip, and not even Katsura knows that I'm this close to Kyoto – I don't know why I was being followed, but there was a miasma of ill intent that seemed to follow me.”

Tatsu paused mid-sip as just how cold of a tone Sakamoto had spoken in sunk into him. It was very rare that the strange and cheerful man spoke with such a serious look on his face and he took the man's words to heart. “How about now?”

“No, I can't feel it, but I think it might be because even if the person following me wanted to challenge or kill me, Fushimi is the Wolves' Den. That probably gave my follower some pause. But I suspect that my follower is a member of this 'Chrysanthemum Guards' because, while we know that they're practically everywhere among the commoners or samurai, the feeling of ill intent I got was completely different than say a Shinsengumi or Mimiwarigumi member hell bent on trying to kill me. It felt much more sinister...”

“Then we should get you to Kyoto and let Katsura know that you're here. He might be able to help you get back to Nagasaki,” he said.

Sakamoto shook his head negative before saying, “No, you're at risk too, if my tail is from the 'Chrysanthemum Guards'. Stay here with the Shinsengumi; they're your best bet for protection. I have a few contacts here and outside of the village who will help me get passage back to Nagasaki. Make sure your brother is also safe... they might target him just to get to you and eventually me. If it comes to war, then I'll do whatever I can to get you and your brother out of there.”

“I thank you,” Tatsu said, acknowledging the generous gesture with a slight nod of his head, “but what about your wife?”

“She is safe,” the man replied. “Probably more so than I am. Since everyone seems to now know that I wrote and brokered the agreement between Satsuma and Choshuu, there have been many guards placed all around her. Besides, some of Takasugi's Kiheitai have stayed behind to guard her.”

“Then when do you think we can expose the 'Chrysanthemum Guards'?”

“Probably not until a firmer peace treaty can be made between the Emperor and Shogun,” Sakamoto answered, shaking his head slightly. “When that happens, I will petition to be there at the negotiations and bring the lockbox with me. I'll also try to advocate for you being there, so survive until then.”

Tatsu nodded as he took another sip of his tea before saying, “Please also stay safe, Sakamoto-san. Japan cannot lose a peacemaker like you.”

 

_Two days later, on the night of December 10 th, 1867, while staying at the shop, Omiya, Sakamoto Ryouma and his friend, Nakaoka Shintaro, were assassinated. Though many pointed to several people who could have assassinated two talented swordsmen, the identity of the assassin (or assassins) was never confirmed._

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut the Kenshin and Okita roll up into a battle against the mysterious cloaked person short because otherwise, this chapter would have been too long to consume. As for Yamagata Aritomo, yes, he is a bit of an asshole towards Okita, but historically, he's always been trying to build and defend the political power of the Imperial Army. In this story, the fact that no one, not even Saitou, told him that Okita Souji was alive irks him to no end.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back...I think...

**Chapter 7**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

Susumu could hear the shouts of the various policemen around the station, calling for arms and backup to go to where yet another incident was brewing. However, he remained where he was, in a rather state-of-the-art medical examination room. Kyoto had been his first taste of what police examination rooms were like, but this one that they had in Tokyo's main station rivaled that of a hospital. It was incredibly clean, well-lit, and had so many instruments and materials that he had found that he hadn't even needed to touch the contents of his medical bag yet.

Still, the duty of examining a dead person was the same. Susumu's initial reporting of the patient in his clinic who had been attacked by his own wife had been made at the same station where Chief Uramura had been stationed at. The police had stated that they would look into the situation, and had then promptly told him that their fellow officers from the main station were looking for more details from him with regards to the suicide from yesterday. After ensuring that his still-healing patient was recovering, he traveled to the main station this morning and was immediately asked (or rather ordered) to perform a full poison examination on the corpse, much to the obvious displeasure of the official doctor who worked for the main station.

Said doctor was currently sitting near the corner of this particular examination room, calmly sipping tea and occasionally glaring at him. He didn't want any trouble or ill will between medical professionals, and thus had vowed to keep his exam as short and as concise as possible. As the sounds of the policemen faded, he held up the small bowl of bile he had extracted from the corpse nearer to the light streaming from the windows. There were several other small ceramic bowls such as the one he held, containing different liquids from areas inside of the body – all having the same burnt bottoms. Burning the contents of the liquids, including fecal matter, extracted was the first of many tests that he had to run to complete a full poison analysis, but the results were already showing. This particular bowl just cemented his suspicions, for the color of the burned bile looked normal, though Susumu was sure that he had not scraped any foreign materials into the bowl.. He was also quite sure that the bowl had been clean before being filled and held to a flame.

Squinting and peering at the liquid inside, he blinked several times before placing it back down on the table – there was no doubt, he had seen something so small, so similar with the blood extracted from the intestines and rectum, that it could have been dismissed as an accidental foreign contaminant – but it wasn't. “You found something, Yamazaki-sensei?”

He looked up and over and nodded towards his colleague, Dr. Hashimoto. “There are a few flecks of black.”

“Ash from cigarette smoke that has built up on the ceiling,” the doctor answered, gesturing upwards. He looked up and saw that there was indeed, small black patches decorating the ceiling from where he could only guess that the doctor had smoked up quite a storm. “I've seen it too during my examination.”

“Forgive my rudeness, Hashimoto-sensei, but I don't think it's ash,” he stated. “Three bowls, including this one showed the same thing. Ash would have eventually dissolved, and in also examining the blood from this man's intestines and rectum, it looks like that there are also flecks of black, but I think this man was taking opium. Not in large quantities to be considered an addict, but enough to have muddled his mind.”

“But there are no usual symptoms of opium consumption on the man,” the doctor argued, and Susumu nodded in agreement. All the usual signs of any person who had taken opium, even on a 'recreational' usage were just not present, but something was nagging in side of him, saying that his initial assumption was correct.

“I know someone who is considered a specialist in opium,” he said. “It is possible that psychosis left over from the revolution or the rebellion down in Satsuma eventually killed this man, but I strongly think that perhaps we may have the beginnings of a new opium market.”

“That specialist wouldn't happen to be Takani-sensei, would it?” the doctor asked.

Susumu tilted his head slightly as he sighed and nodded, but quickly said, “She is not the only one. If you permit me, there is another person that I would also like to bring in, besides Takani-sensei.”

It was well known among the medical community that Takeda Kanryuu had shouted and cursed Dr. Takani for creating the addictive opium that he distributed, wanting to ensure that the doctor would never be freed from her black deeds. While she had been shielded from the wrath of the police by Himura Kenshin, her reputation within Tokyo had been greatly damaged in the eyes of many doctors who worked in the city. It seemed that only Dr. Gensai had been willing to accept her into his clinic; even Susumu himself had initially been incredibly hesitant in the fact that she had not been arrested and was actually working as a doctor after the Takeda incident.

Still, he learned to get over that hesitation as word of Dr. Takani's natural healing skills was passed along by many people whom she took care of during her brief stay in Tokyo's medical community. Now though, most did not know that she had returned from Aizu, and it would give him time to also contact the other person whom he knew who had been the security enforcer for Takeda during the opium incident. He didn't know if it was possible, since Aoshi was now spymaster of Kyoto's police force, but knew that both of them had more knowledge about the type of addictive opium that Takeda had been developing. He needed both of them to take a look at the corpse.

“Fine,” Dr. Hashimoto said after a moment. “Bring in your specialists. Meanwhile, please return to your clinic. I have many more bodies to examine and reports to write up.”

It was as blunt of a dismissal as it could get, and Susumu knew that to linger and stay would invite more than just words from the doctor whose pride he had nearly trampled over. Cleaning up the area and preserving the samples he had extracted in corked glass vials that had come from the west, he left after a few minutes. As he winded his way through to the front entrance he caught a glimpse of Saitou, no longer dressed in his grey uniform, but in a regular officer's uniform. He saw the former Shinsengumi captain go out and climb into a carriage that quickly bore him away. While he knew that Saitou wore the grey uniforms of the specialists in the Tokyo Police Force, for him to be wearing a regular uniform told Susumu that something big was going on.

Shaking his head slightly, he didn't linger on the thought too much and instead, sought out the two officers that he had talk to yesterday, in addition to Saitou. He had to let them know that he needed the expertise of Shinomori Aoshi and Dr. Takani Megumi. If a new breed of opium was starting to take shape and being distributed, then Japan's medical community was definitely not ready for it.

* * *

Far on the outskirts of northwest Tokyo, running under a chilly blue sky that spoke of autumn's permanent arrival, there was a fire burning in Okita's lungs as he quickly ran through the leaf-covered forest floors. Branches of gold, red, and orange-brown surrounded him and his companion as they continued to chase their prey down; neither pursuer or pursued making any headway to close or lengthen the distance. Though exhaustion ate at him, along with the lack of sweet cold air trying to douse the fire within, Okita kept his pace up for he found that he actually _missed_ the thrill of an actual chase.

Gone were the days of the revolution, replace by peace – peace that he had wanted, and had welcomed, but the slumbering wolf inside of him had awoken during the summer in the defense of Kyoto, and now it reveled in the freedom of just a purely exciting run in pursuance of a criminal. In his mind's eye, tree trunks turned into building sidewalls and alleyways while the branches and what leaves the trees had left turned into rooftops – this was Kyoto again, and the bandits were the quarry. However, he did not let his imagination take over his senses and kept himself grounded to reality as the brief vision faded away.

Beside him, he could hear rapid footsteps keeping pace with him, and feel the strong _ken-ki_ of Kenshin. With how tightly knotted the forest of colorful trees were, the bandits could not scatter, else they risked running into low branches or tripping over brambles and bushes. Thus all of them kept to the rough horse path as the slope of the ground slowly increased.

At the apex of the long climb up the hill, the forest abruptly stopped and pitched all of them out into a flat grassy field that was dotted with the occasional tree and whose horizon stretched into another hill that rose higher. Colorful and shimmering forests of densely packed trees covered the far distance of the field, nearly concealing several horse and wagon paths. The bandits were charging towards the safety of the forest, but Okita found himself focusing on another threat that had just appeared. Beside him, he could feel Kenshin's presence spike in danger.

There was a woman, with the lower half of her face wrapped in cloth, dressed in a simple grey hakama and thick blue gi, with a white cloak inlined with a bright red color wrapped around her, who had stepped out from the shadows of a lone pine tree. Though he could feel a strong warrior's presence within her, it was the fact that she had her sword drawn and bared in an attacking manner, along with the lack of intent he could read from just that stance that raised his guard. This was a very dangerous swordswoman. However, he kept himself as calm as possible as he curtly said, “Go. I will handle this.”

Just as he grasped the scabbard of his sword with his left hand and quickly clamped down with his right to swiftly draw the blade out, the woman gave a rather challenging roar. He answered with a raspy one of his own, even though it felt more like he was breathing out fire and burning his lungs in the process. Still he did not slow, and angled himself to close the distance with a leap. However, he saw her immediately jump, and responded by bringing his sword up, anticipating the downward strike that was about to happen in a blink of an eye.

“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Ryuutsuisen!”

While his body momentarily seized in shock, causing his defensive gesture to fall short just as the edge of the woman's blade clanged and scraped along his own, it was his forward momentum that managed to save him from being completely gutted from shoulder to stomach. Intense pain flared across the wound that sliced across his right arm as he managed to shake the shock and rolled forward, hearing the woman land back on the ground. As he came up from his roll, he pulled himself up tight and spun while crouched, with his right hand still holding onto the blade, flinging it out to block the incredibly fast second strike from the woman.

He continued to spin up and out, his left hand swiftly clamped down on the end of the hilt which gave him a brief moment to hold and push against his attacker before he twisted his body again to the right, lashing out with the leading edge of his left elbow and forearm to bring his momentum and weight crashing into the woman. Continuing the tight twirl, with his feet splayed out in perfect balance to his movement, he quickly shifted his weight and just as he managed to knock the woman slightly off balance, he swept up with a swift and heavy kick.

Completing the revolution, he wasted no time and plunged in with _Hirasegan_ , though the woman was quick enough to recover from the attack and managed to quickly counter it with a thrust of her own. Already too close to his opponent that he could not reverse his momentum and back away, his balance was briefly knocked to the side as their swords crossed. Just as he flung himself to the same side that his blade was going, now being held only by his left hand for a moment, red hair briefly appeared in his vision as he felt Kenshin's presence explode and join the fight.

“Souryuusen!” he heard the ex-hitokiri roar as he saw the whirl of connecting strikes, one by the scabbard, one by the sword attempt to hit the woman. Dodging with the barest of movement, just as Kenshin struck, Okita didn't wait until Kenshin's sakabatou cleared the woman's blade and block before he attacked again. Striking in with a downward left to right sweep, his blade clanged against the guard of the woman's sword, just as she kicked with her left foot, trying to connect against Kenshin's back as the swordsman spun away.

Using the brief distraction, Okita freed his left hand and twisted his right, still holding onto his sword as he engaged in the briefest of locks with his wrists and pulled the woman to her right. Unbalanced, she started to fall, but he was quicker and pushed back to allow himself a small space to kick her right in the stomach. She folded for a moment, but faster than he anticipated, she backpedaled and just as he stepped in to attempt to skewer her with the tip of his blade, she deflected it with her forearm.

The arm guard underneath her clothes saved her life, as Okita threw his balance into the block and sent his twisted his blade so that it was nearly parallel to the floor, sweeping across to try to strike her unguarded right shoulder. At the same time, he could see Kenshin leaping in for another attack. Both were blocked by the woman who managed to fling herself a couple of steps back and snapped up a bare hand to stop Kenshin's sakabatou, while the edge of her blade scraped against his own.

The minutest of pauses between stopped attacks and blades hung over them, but it was quickly shattered when the woman calmly stated, “Ryuukansen.”

A sharp whirlwind of blades struck at both of them, as Okita jumped back to avoid being sliced into pieces. He heard Kenshin immediately counter with, “Arashi!”

Just as his ally's blade struck against the whirling wall of white, Okita charged back in, refusing to yield to his faltering strength and willed himself to pour all of his strength into his strike. There was a brief entanglement of the three blades, but since his was a pinpoint strike, it plowed straight into the flat of the woman's blade, pushing her and her blade back, while the remnants of Kenshin's attack finally struck a blow. The attack hit her outstretched arm, which had been thrown slightly forward to counter the unbalanced stance she was in.

Wasting no time, Okita followed through with his strike, bodily grabbing the woman's injured arm with his left hand and spun down to his right, throwing her over his shoulder. She gave a strangled cry, but he was unable to hear it as his ears were suddenly filled with the sound of pounding drums. Dizziness spilled across his head as the ground suddenly became wobbly and his vision split into fractured instances.

Stumbling back, he involuntarily curled up as spasms rolled across his body and felt himself collapse onto his knees, coughing with enough force to see black spots float across his eyes. Fighting for control, he forced his right hand to curl around the hilt of his sword, pouring his will into his rebelliously faltering body. The bandits were already long gone, but there was a still a chance that they could catch up – they just needed to defeat this swordswoman.

It was the sound of cloth being ripped in close proximity to where he was that he finally found the strength to look up, only to see Kenshin being forcefully kicked in the chest and flying away from the woman. However, the ex-hitokiri had managed to snag the piece of cloth that had been tied over half of the woman's face, ripping it off. They now had an identity, but Okita felt his heart skip a beat.

_It cannot be..._

Blinking once-twice, as he found himself unable to move because of sheer shock, he was barely aware that Kenshin was trying to get up but could not do more than just lift his head a few inches off of the ground. “Nee-san?” he whispered, but as soon as the honorific left his lips, he knew that the woman was not his sister Mitsu. The woman in front of him was much too young-looking, despite the cold, lifeless gaze she held towards the two of them.

“Midori-chan,” he managed to say, seeing the woman narrow her eyes slightly at the name, before the sound of hooves thundering across the earth were heard. Struggling to even just take a breath, he found himself staring at the tip of his niece's – he was sure that the woman was his niece – blade. The long line of trauma that he had put his body through from the chase to the fight was too much and as much as he willed himself, he could only grip the hilt of his blade and stare up.

“Leave them,” a man's voice cut through the sound of migrating birds honking at each other in the skies as a gentle autumn wind blew by. His eyes glanced beyond the tip of the blade and he saw a rather tall and imposing-looking man with long black hair tied up in a ponytail, and a distinctive facial feature that was a prominent square jaw, sitting on a horse. The man was also dressed in the same white cloak with red inner lining, though his riding clothes underneath the cloak was all black. “Killing Himura Kenshin and his comrade will only bring the wrath of the 13th Master down up on us.”

“Yes, Master,” the woman curtly said as Okita saw her sheathe her blade and quickly hop onto the horse that the man had brought with him. He could only stare in anger and despair, pushing as much of the agony that encased his body down, at the man and the woman as both of them deigned to take another look at the fallen swordsmen and galloped away.

As much as he wanted to scream in rage, he didn't. Though blackness crept up the edges of his vision, he held onto that cold anger and the disbelief as to why his niece was working with kidnapping bandits. Whatever life choices that his sister and his brother-in-law had made after the end of the revolution, he knew that he would have to find them. For even as he succumbed to unconsciousness, he had a feeling that to rescue Yuki and the other children, Okita Mitsu and her husband, Rintarou, had the answers.

~~~

When Okita next awoke, it was to the sharp but oddly-soothing scent of matsu incense. Blinking to clear his eyes, a wave of aches and fatigue hit him as he tried to move under the covers of the futon he was lying on. Turning his head slightly to the left and right, he didn't recognize the room he was in, and as he breathed, he could feel a cool sliver of air working its way down his lungs, seemingly trying to cool the fires still burning inside of him. It felt slightly easier to breathe, but it was still hard for him to draw a complete breath.

Painfully coughing as his breath hitched again, it was that sound that drew the attention of whomever was keeping an eye on him as he heard the partition slide open. He could not not sense ill intent from the person who entered, but as his coughing slowly subsided, he turned to face the person and was rewarded with the sight of the person he least expected to see.

“Tokio-san,” he hoarsely said.

“I am glad to see that you have awoken. For a while, I, along with Yamazaki-sensei and others were worried that you would never open your eyes,” she kindly said before reaching towards something out of Okita's vision. A moment later, he saw that there was a mug of warm water, with the steam curling up and out, in her hands.

Just the sight of something liquid made him thirsty, knowing that it would be able to soothe the pain in his lungs. As he tried to raise himself into a sitting position, he heard her set the mug down, and help him sit up. Had it been any other situation, he would have been thoroughly embarrassed that Tokio was tending to him, but the way she ensured that he was sitting upright and drinking the water only served to remind him of the days long past where he thought he was clearly dying.

Mitsu had done the same for him as he had been lying on his deathbed all those years ago; helping him sit up to eat something, helping him tip a mug of water or tea down his throat for his shaking and weak hands and arms couldn't even lift such a small thing up... and at the thought of his sister, he immediately stopped sipping the water as he frowned.

The mug of water was taken away as he heard Tokio shift slightly before hearing her say, “I will fetch Yamazaki-sensei.”

“Tokio-san,” he spoke up, his voice not as hoarse as it had been, “where am I and how long have I been here?”

“Sato-san and his men found both you and Himura-san in the forests outside of Tokyo two days ago. They initially brought both of you to the main station, but I suggested that both of you would have an easier time recovering from your wounds here at my home. It is close enough that Yamazaki-sensei can still tend to his investigative assistance for the police while ensuring that the two of you are recovering.”

Grateful, but ashamed that they had nothing to show for their appreciation, Okita said, “Thank you for your hospitality, Tokio-san. However, please accept my sincerest apologies that we have not been able to locate Eiji-kun.”

He saw her shake her head slightly before giving him a hopeful smile, “I was surprised that both you and Himura-san were working on the case. Hajime did not tell me that he had recruited both of you before he left on his assignment.”

“We were not recruited by him,” he answered, “but nevertheless, I still apologize for our lack of progress.”

“I accept it,” she said, nodding slightly, “but only because Sato-san told me that the two of you managed to stop five children from being kidnapped. Please, my friend, rest and I will fetch Yamazaki-sensei.”

“Tokio-san?” he asked, as she got up. “If I may ask you a favor?”

“You never have to ask for any favor,” she said, giving him a soft smile. “We've known each other for far too long to stand on ceremony. Please, what can I do for you?”

“It is about my family,” he began but paused for a moment as he glanced down and folded his hands together, suddenly feeling a bit uncharacteristically anxious. Looking back up, he continued, saying, “Please pass on a message to Sato-san: we need to locate two people that may know or have some information about a person who is behind at least one of the kidnappings. I only know their names from before the revolution. I do not know what aliases they may have taken on for this new era, but the police will have to locate Okita Mitsu and her husband, Rintarou.”

“Okita-san,” he heard Tokio whisper in surprise but did not press for the reason why. He knew that it was not her nature to – she was much too polite like him to ask such a personal question, even though as she had said before, they had known each other since childhood. Even in this new age, old social habits from the days of the samurai did not die easily.

Instead, she asked, “May I also pass this information to Himura-san?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding slightly. “Please do.”

“Then I also have some information to pass onto you as well with permission from Himura-san,” she said. “The identity of the man who fetched the swordswoman is unknown to Himura-san, but the man has a strong family resemblance to his master, Hiko Seijuurou.”

* * *

_Master..._

Though Kenshin was breathing deeply as per the doctor's orders so that Yamazaki could listen carefully to his lungs, his thoughts were taking a trip down memory lane. Aching pain from his muscles rubbing against each other, along with his bones being moved with each breath taken was shunted to the side as he thought about his master. He had tried to get up, to continue to fight against the swordswoman, but it was the sharp, lancing pain that coursed through his body, causing his muscles to uncontrollably contract and loosen, that kept him on the ground.

Seeing the man tell the woman to leave them be and give the order for him and Okita to not be killed had caused the spasms to stop, but by the time Kenshin regained control of himself, it was too late to pursue them. That and combined with his shock at seeing the man he had initially thought to be his master, rooted him to the spot. It was only upon later introspection that he realized that thought the man wearing nearly the same kind of iconic red and white cloak that he had seen his master wear countless of times, there were some facial differences between the man and his master. The man had a broader square jaw than his master did, and eyes that were slightly narrower.

Frowning slightly as he raised his arms and did as Yamazaki ordered for the examination, he wished that he had been more persistent in asking his master about his family. The first time Kenshin had asked his master about family, it had been shot completely down with a glare that had haunted his dreams for the next two weeks. He had never asked that question again and eventually forgot about it. Now though...

“Pardon me, Yamazaki-sensei,” Tokio's tinkling voice spoke through the other side of the partition. “Okita-san is awake. He has also informed me to ask the police to search for two people that may know the identity of one of the people behind the kidnappings.”

“Thank you, Fujita-san,” Kenshin heard the doctor say before telling him to lower his arms. There was the faint footsteps of the woman shuffling away, and he could not help but feel slight relief that despite what had happened, the injuries that both of them had sustained in that brutal fight had not permanently incapacitated them. They had been very lucky that the fight had stopped when it had stopped.

Besides the search for Yahiko and the other children that still had not turned up any fresh leads since the encounter with the bandits, there was yet another concern that occupied his thoughts. It was the fact that the enemy swordswoman had executed several forms of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – all of them perfect and would have killed either him or Okita, had the two not been extremely quick with their reflexes.

As far as he knew, his master had not trained any other person in the form, and given that the man he had seen with the woman looked like his master – did his master have family members who also trained in the sword style? He mentally shook his head; speculation only made him more worried, and he could only hope that Yamazaki's pigeon message to the Oniwabanshuu in Kyoto reached them as quickly as possible. There were answers he needed, answers that would be able to help him find Yahiko and the others, and he knew that his master had some of those answers.

* * *

“Ah, Tokio-san,” Tokio heard the hesitant voice of Kaoru say as she left the area and approached the dining room. Sliding the partition open and entering it before much of the heat could escape as she closed it, she saw her son, Tsutomu, happily playing with a few wooden blocks under the care and watch of Kaoru. While the house that she and Hajime lived in was a mix of Japanese design and western architecture, it was still built to Japanese aesthetics – they had sliding partitions to separate rooms and a small courtyard and garden.

“Okita-san has woken up,” she stated, taking a seat at the western table with simple but elegantly-carved high-backed chairs.

“Thank goodness,” Kaoru said, before pouring a cup of tea for her. Tokio gratefully accepted it and took a sip as she watched her son stack the blocks into a tower of some sorts. Two days ago, her husband had left for his assignment and it was only later in the day did she go to the main station to see if any of the officers who had been working on the missing children case have any information. Instead of information, she had discovered that both Himura and Okita had surprisingly been recruited and assigned to the case and both of them had been heavily injured while working on a potential lead from hours earlier.

Knowing that the main station was not the most comfortable of places to recover from injuries, and not wanting to subject either men to scrutiny from the police force, since civilians were rarely seen in the small clinic that was adjacent to the station, she petitioned for Himura and Okita to be transferred to her house. Her sympathy for the two had mostly been because of Himura – even though he was virtually unknown at the main station, she had already started hearing the rumors of the legendary Hitokiri Battousai swirl around. It had taken a considerable amount of influence that she had as the wife of Fujita Gorou, to get the two transferred.

As soon as the two had been sequestered, she had asked a few trusted co-workers of her husband to bring the news to Kaoru. It was only proper that Kaoru be informed of her husband's condition and she had not been surprised to see the woman, even though she was certainly beginning to show her pregnancy, arrive at the house. Thus, while Tokio took the time to ensure that Okita was cared for, for she did not want Kaoru to tend to a man who had a potentially fatal disease that could easily be passed from one person to another, Kaoru took care of Tsutomu whenever she was not caring for her husband.

“Is there really no way to inform Aya-san about her husband's condition?”

The question had been asked before, but it was only because the officer that Himura and Okita had been working with, Sato, had been present that the connection had been realized by the policeman. Tokio had learned that though Matsumoto Aya had married and taken on Okita's alias surname, she had deliberately kept her own surname while working for the Tokyo Police Force. She had inferred the reason for that change to be that the woman wanted to protect and ensure that her husband was not bothered by the police force or any governmental entity for that matter.

Kaoru did not understand how politics worked, even in such a capacity within the police force, and thus her innocent question had proved to be a tense moment. Fortunately, Sato understood the unsaid implications of questioning the connection even further and did not pry – Okita's infamous identity as a former Shinsengumi captain had not been compromised. Tokio took another sip of her tea before setting the mug down and said, “In times like these, it is best to not to say anything. Instead, it is better for us to ensure that they fully recover.”

It sounded callous, even to her own ears, but after what she had seen in Kyoto in the summer, she knew that there was a clear difference between the relationships of Himura and Kaoru, and Okita and Aya. Violence and upheaval shaped the latter two's lives and how they interacted with each other, while the former two had met at a time of peace.

Fortunately, there was a loud knock at the front entrance, and it saved her from further explanation as she got up and quickly exited, walking towards the courtyard. Yamazaki had poked his head out of Okita's room, wondering who it was, and though Tokio had not felt any ill intent from the person who had knocked, she did not recognize the presence as the officer, Sato.

“Who is it?” she asked, stopped next to the door, a slight chill from the autumn air robbing what little warmth she had accumulated in her brief rest in the dining room.

“It's me, Ichimura Tetsunosuke,” the voice on the other side said.

Opening the door, she smiled as she saw the bright eyes of the storekeeper greet her, but his expression was far from happy. Gesturing for him to enter, he stepped in, saying, “Susumu sent a pigeon down. What happened to them?”

“They encountered the kidnappers,” she said as she closed the door and led him across the courtyard. Leaving her geta at the small step up, she stepped up to the walkway and continued to lead Ichimura to where Himura and Okita were resting.

As soon as they arrived, Yamazaki was already out on the walkway and said, “They're doing better, Tetsu. Please just let them rest.”

The panic that had been flitting on the edges of the shopkeeper's eyes died as he nodded and said, “Thank you. Do you know who attacked them?”

“No--” the doctor began, but was interrupted when the nearest partition to him opened, spilling some light into the twilight day.

“I believe that the identity of the woman who stopped us from pursuing the bandits may be known,” Okita said from where he was sitting and leaning against the frame. “She may be my niece, Okita Midori.”

Tokio heard a noise that sounded more irritated than that of a protest from Yamazaki, but the doctor did not move, for there was a heavy blanket wrapped around Okita's body. It was the other soft clack of another partition being opened and Kenshin stepping out, dressed in heavy layers to keep himself warm, that caused the doctor to throw his hands up and shake his head slightly in exasperation. If it weren't for the seriousness of the situation, she would have laughed at just how disobedient and stubborn the doctors' two patients were.

“And the person that she called her 'master' may be of relation to my master, Hiko Seijuurou, that she may be,” Himura quietly responded.

“So then how does that tie into the smuggler reports that my contacts gave me?” she heard Ichimura muse out loud. If Ichimura was surprised by the two revelations, he didn't show it, and instead, was sporting a furrowed brow as he tapped his chin. “Apparently, the western coast has had more smugglers running their wares than what my contacts said they usually find. Most are your typical import-export of illegal items, such as opium and weapons, but some have been from Japanese port to Japanese port, especially in the northwest.”

“Wait,” the doctor interrupted the musing, “did you say opium?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Takeda Kanryuu,” Yamazaki said, looking over towards Himura. “He wanted to open a port in Tokyo, didn't he?”

“Yes,” Himura answered, looking slightly confused for a moment.

“But why? It would be more expensive to compete against the western ports that are nearer to China and can find easier ways to import the drug. If he had succeeded in opening up Tokyo, his ships would still have to run many risky gauntlets to get their drug across the world, even if Takani-sensei had created a more addictive version of opium. The only reason why he would take that risk is if he knew of yet another version being made that could cause addictive psychosis in the user and wanted to ensure that the market was not dominated by a rival's product.”

“Then the first suicide that was used as a distraction contained opiate traces?” Okita asked, frowning.

“Yes,” Yamazaki nodded, though Tokio thought it was a little too enthusiastic of a nod. “I had not seen this type before. Takani-sensei is currently helping me with the formula to recreate it, and Aoshi is on his way up to provide additional information on the inner workings of how the business is run.”

“Then is it safe to say that whomever is controlling the smuggling of this new type of opium that people use, causes the distractions to allow the kidnappers to take the children?” Ichimura asked, though it sounded more like a statement than question. “But then why kidnap the children? Feeding opium to the masses would cause more chaos than kidnapping children.”

“Unless we were not supposed to discover that they are kidnapping children,” Okita said, though his tone was quite dark. “Someone is also deliberately triggering the psychosis via the newspaper articles about Sakamoto Ryouma.”

“That they are,” Himura agreed, though his tone was quiet as he continued to say, “though the question remains: why kidnap children?”

“There is also the additional question that needs answering, Himura-san,” Okita said. “Why did that man tell my niece not to kill either of us? We were at her mercy, and he specifically said not to kill you and by association, me.”

“This one is hoping that the Oniwabanshuu will have some answers for us soon,” Himura replied.

“And I hope that both of you will get back into your rooms and rest some more,” Yamazaki cut in, folding his arms across his chest as he looked back and forth between the two injured swordsmen. Neither moved, but Yamazaki did not say anymore to them as he looked back up towards Ichimura and said, “Tetsu, can you focus on the opium stuff? We need to know how the western parts are importing this in, or if it is being produced locally.”

Ichimura nodded with enthusiasm as he said, “Will do. I also need to send a message to my wife and kids to let them know that I won't be taking the next boat back down.”

However, before the shopkeeper could leave, Himura spoke up, quietly saying, “Tetsunosuke, please be careful. The swordswoman who fought against us was trained in Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. If she and potentially others like her are behind this opium-and-children-kidnapping ordeal, don't risk your life for it.”

“Don't worry. I won't.”

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I don't even know if the real-life historical Okita Mitsu and her husband, Rintarou, had children. All I know is that they left Souji in Edo during the evacuation/escape of loyalists in 1868, and possibly survived the Meiji Revolution, but what they did afterwards is completely in the air. So their made up children in the Whispers series (and at least their revealed daughter in this story so far) is complete fabrication on my part.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

Misao glanced up into the sky for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day, just in time to see the autumn sun being covered in clouds yet again. Sighing quite audibly, she stretched, feeling her bones pop as the old woman who owned this little resting area on the Tokaido road set a steaming mug of tea in front of her.

“Ah, it looks like it might rain again tonight,” the old woman said.

“Aw,” she replied as she graciously took the mug and sipped it. As cool as the breeze was, there also seemed to be an unusual chill in the air. “I was hoping for a short break in the endless rain. From Kyoto to here, its been raining constantly.”

“I know how you feel, dear,” the old woman said, smiling before another customer called for her and she bustled away.

Misao took another sip of her tea as she closed her eyes for a moment and tried to relax her mind. The past few days had been full of frustration in searching for the whereabouts of the 13th Master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was. Ji-ya had received an urgent hawk message a few days ago that had been sent by Dr. Yamazaki on behalf of Himura. The message had asked for the 13th Master to answer a single question: had the 13th Master taught anyone else the sword style? Aoshi had left for Tokyo only a few hours before the hawk had arrived, and therefore, it had been up to Misao to seek the reclusive swordsman out.

When Misao had arrived at the hut, it looked as if it had been empty for some time. She had checked the kiln that the swordsman used to create his wares, and found it bone dry and quite cold to the touch. There was also little evidence as to where Hiko Seijuurou had gone, but she thought she saw some signs pointing towards the north and east. Thus now, with reassurances from her fellow Oniwabanshuu that they would continue to keep an eye out for the swordsman, she had set out along the main road, heading towards Tokyo. She occasionally stopped by some wayward village to ask and inquire about any person that matched the swordsman's appearance. Her technique for searching had been honed by years of searching for Aoshi, but despite her efforts, not one person had seen Hiko.

As for Aoshi, she could imagine that by now, the ship that usually traversed the port of Osaka to Yokohama harbor would have already arrived at the port. Aoshi had said little to her and the rest of the Oniwabanshuu as to the nature of his travel up to Tokyo – only that it was to help with an investigation. Ever since he had taken over the position of spymaster for Kyoto's Police Force, she had seen very little of him and knew little of what he did.

After what happened over the summer, and finding out what had happened to her mother and grandfather during Aoshi's succession as the next _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu, she had put a lot of effort into their relationship to ensure that nothing changed for the worse. She certainly did not feel any less affection for Aoshi than the day she had realized she adored and loved him, but in the weeks that followed the revelation, he had grown a little more distant. It was not just his new work that had consumed him, it seemed to her that the summer's events had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. After the Yukishirou Enishi incident, he had seemed to have come out of the quiet, meditative shell that had encompassed him after Shishio's rampage, but the summer's incident seemed to swallow him back into that shell. She had almost tried the same tactics that she had done after he had returned to the Oniwabanshuu last summer, but on the unusually strong-worded advice of Ji-ya, she had instead, retreated and given him some space.

Now, he was in Tokyo for an unknown amount of time, and she didn't know if she would see him anytime soon, especially if her search for the 13th Master took a long time. Word had already been sent back to Himura, and she hoped that with luck, perhaps she would find the 13th Master soon, and perhaps be able to stop by Tokyo to see him.

_Ah!_

Misao blinked as the echo of a scream seemed to reverberate through her ears, sending her out of her musings. A moment later, the scream came again, and this time, she knew that it was not her imagination – her sensitive hearing had indeed, picked up on someone crying for help. No one else in this little rest stop seemed to have heard it. Putting some coins down, she picked up her traveling pack, tightened it around her waist, and dashed off with a quick “thank you!” to the proprietor.

The cries for help had come from the north east area, in the deep forests that surrounded this part of the road, and though she knew that it could be just some one being attacked by a wild animal, her gut was telling her that it was not so. As she ran deeper into the golden-leaf covered forest, she thought she could hear the sounds of swords being clashed, along with additional cries that seemed too high-pitched for adults.

Bandits.

Knowing that she really should not get involved in a fight, but feeling that she couldn't just leave travelers to their own against such a scourge, she continued towards the sounds. Drawing her throwing knives, two in each hand, she continued to sprint forward until the forest suddenly thinned out and cleared into a patch of rolling hills that was dotted with enormous boulders.

Three caged wagons were filled with several children and had careened off a seldom-used hilly wagon path. Masterless horses, tied by pairs to the wagons well behaved for such beasts of burden, had merely stopped, while their masters were trying to fight back against an unknown assailant who was cutting them down with quickness and ease. There were already three men on the ground, dead or alive, she couldn't tell, and only three were left standing.

Not bandits...slavers.

Misao had not even reached the first wagon when she saw a blue blur slam into the first of the men left standing, who only had a moment to widen his eyes in surprise before he was brutally slammed into the ground. In between blinks of her eyes, the other two men, clenching the hilts of their weapons until they were white-knuckled, were also knocked flat onto their back. She didn't even get time to react and managed to only squeak out in surprise before the blur heaved her up by the front of her clothes and painfully slammed her into the tall face of a boulder. The throwing knives in her hands clattered to the ground as she struggled to just breathe, but then the force that pinned her to the rock was immediately gone as she blinked to erase the stars from her eyes.

“You,” she whispered, horrified as fear enveloped her stomach at just who had attacked her. It was widely known, even to those at the Aoiya who had been only attacked by five members of the Juppongatana, that only one had escaped capture by the police. She had always found it strange that in the aftermath, according to what Chou had told them, the police had not put much effort into finding the remaining member. Misao had nearly volunteered the services of the Oniwabanshuu to hunt down the final person, but Himura had stated that it was not necessary – there was a path that particular person needed to take to find himself again.

Now though, she was definitely regretting that non-decision, as she stared up into the still-boyishly youthful, but strangely regretful-looking face of Seta Soujirou. Even with over a year passing since she had seen him at the hot springs during Himura's first encounter against Shishio, he still looked the same, though she did note that his hair seemed a bit more scraggly-looking. The clothes he was wearing were still blue in color, but they looked shabbier and patchy – not like the crisp, clean appearance he had at the hot springs. But it was the fact that he was holding a short metal baton that one of the men had been holding surprised her even further.

“I'm sorry,” he simply stated before bowing his head slightly and turned away.

She managed to shake off some of the effects of him slamming her into a boulder and stepped away from the rock. She saw him approach the first wagon, as she knelt down and picked up her throwing knives and sheathed them in the various pocket-areas she had in her clothes. Standing back up, she approached as she watched him break the lock that was tied around the wagon's entrance and swung the door open.

Misao saw him climb in and start taking the weeping and frightened children, five in total, out of the wagons, for they were bound hand and feet. She hurried towards the children and pulled out one of her knives to cut the thick ropes. However, before she could let her sharp blade sink into the fiber, she heard him say, “Don't do that. We need the ropes to tie up their captors.”

It was then that she glanced over towards one of the slavers near the wagon and noticed that miraculously, the man was still breathing, albeit he was completely unconscious. Returning her attention to the rope on the little girl's wrists, she picked at it until she found the ends of it and started to yank on parts of it, trying to loosen it. With a little more effort, it finally started to unravel and a few moments later, she had the girl's wrists untied and knelt down to quickly undo the knot at her feet.

By the time she was done and had coiled up the rope again, she glanced over to see that Soujirou had already untied two other children and was in the midst of unknotting a third rope. She knew that for the ease and familiarity in which he had in undoing the ropes, he must have encountered slavers before – it was the only explanation that she could come up with. Silently, she continued on her work and after the five children from the first wagon were freed, she picked up the ropes and approached the unconscious slavers while Soujirou went to the second wagon.

It was also then, as she found her gaze lingering on the second wagon, that she realized that one of the children in the wagon looked familiar. Quickly tying up the nearest slaver, she left the children alone and approached the second wagon, shouting, “Oy, what happened to you Eiji?!”

“What the hell are you doing here, you bastard?!” the boy shouted, giving her pause in her approach.

“What?!” she said, taking a step forward towards the caged wagon, still not fully recovering from the shock upon seeing a familiar face behind the bars. However, it took her a moment, but she realized that the epithet that the orphaned boy had shouted was not directed at her, but specifically at Soujirou.

She glanced back and saw that the young man had stilled for a moment before resuming trying to help a child down. Deciding that it was safe to approach the second wagon, she went over to it, and saw Eiji's eyes soften only very slightly upon seeing her.

“Hey, Eiji. I was in the area,” she casually said as she swung up to the lock area on the cage and broke it with a forceful strike from one of her throwing knives. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” the boy grumbled, continuing to glare at the infamous ex-Juppongatana who was calmly continuing to untie ropes. “I thought Himura-san defeated and arrested him last year.”

“Um,” she began, as she lifted and set a child out from the wagon. “I heard he did, but let him go.”

She felt the heat of Eiji's angry glare turn to her and winced slightly as he remained silent for a few moments and then said in a cold tone, “Does my adopted father know?”

“I don't know,” she admitted, and she was certain of that. It was not her place to tell Eiji whether or not Saitou Hajime actually knew of Soujirou's escape and whether or not the policeman had actually spent resources to hunt the infamous assassin down – she truly did not know.

“I'm going to get some answers,” the boy determinedly said and even before she had fully loosened the knots on the ropes that bound the boy's hands and feet, he shook them out and quickly crawled out of the cage.

“Wait here,” she said, looking at the other children in the wagon as she saw fear in their eyes. “I'll be right back.” Crawling back out, she hurried to the other wagons, as she saw Eiji run up to the swordsman and attempted to shove him to the ground. She managed to catch Eiji by the shoulder and pull him back before the boy could attempt to kick Soujirou, who had stumbled and taken the fall without injury.

“Hey!” she shouted as she planted herself in between the boys, arms splayed out to prevent the two from engaging in a possible fistfight. “Stop it, Eiji!” She heard the swordsman pick himself off the ground, but he did not say a word. “Let's get the rest of these kids freed, and then we can figure out what's going on, okay?”

A long, tension-filled moment passed between the three, but it was Soujirou who broke it by simply going back to the wagon that he had been working on and continuing to untie the children. Misao pushed Eiji none-too-gently on the back towards the third wagon while she went back to the second one. Silence with the occasional grateful whimper of a child being released from his or her bonds filled the forest.

Soon, the gentle rumbling of distant thunder was heard and a few minutes later, a light drizzle started to fall as the last of the children were freed. Misao climbed back out of the wagon and waded through the children who looked quite lost as she approached Soujirou. Taking the ropes in her hands, she silently helped him tie up the remaining slavers and after that was done, she stood back up and gave an audible sigh.

“So,” she casually said, folding her arms across her chest as she watched him untie the ropes that tethered the horses to the first wagon before unhitching the ensemble. “It looks like you've done this before.”

“Yes,” Soujirou answered in an uncharacteristically short tone.

“If you had any shred of honor, you would turn yourself into the police, you bastard,” Eiji's intrusive exclamation into her attempt to weasel information out of the former Juppongatana swordsman caused him to pause for a moment before resuming his task. However, Eiji was not done and proclaimed, “On behalf of the Tokyo Police Force, I'm taking you in!”

As much as Misao wanted to smack the insolent boy upside, she didn't, and settled on just jamming her hand on top of Eiji's head, mussing his hair slightly as she said, “Eiji, don't be a fool. You're--”

“Correct, Mishima-san,” Soujirou interrupted, turning as he took the horses by the reigns and led them to the children. Misao blinked in surprise, barely noticing that Eiji's expression mirrored her own. “However, I will turn myself in only after I complete this task...that is: stop the organization that has kidnapped children from all over Japan to manipulate for their own evil scheme.”

“Huh?”

“It's better for either of you not to get involved in this--”

“Bullshit,” Eiji swore, to which Misao smacked him in the back of his head.

“Language! I met your adopted mother before and thought that she would have taught you some manners.”

“Whatever,” the boy said, knocking Misao's arm away and stomped over until he was nearly invading Soujirou's personal space. “Don't you dare run away from me, you coward,” he hissed. “If I had a sword right now, you would be dead by my hand. You, who just stood there while Senkaku slaughtered my parents. You, who stood there with a smile while Shishio took over and turned us into slaves. You, who cowardly ran away when your _master_ was defeated by the best swordsmen of Japan. You don't even deserve a second chance.”

“Eiji...” Misao began, but faltered as she realized that it was all true – everything that the boy had voiced had been things that she had wanted to shout at Soujirou too. Though she had never asked Aoshi about it, she had long suspected that Seta Soujirou had been the one to 'recruit' Aoshi into Shishio's organization. Had the young man not done so, then perhaps Aoshi could have been saved earlier from his self-destructive path in life.

“If you see Saitou-san when you return home, please let him know that I will surrender peacefully when my work is complete. It is important that I stop these kidnappers from reaching their destination,” Soujirou said before gesturing to the children and to the wagons. “The organization that is taking these children are very dangerous and what they do to them can and will affect the future peace and stability of the country.”

Despite the lack of emotional inflection in the young man's tone, Misao found herself believing his words and placed a hand on Eiji's shoulder to prevent him from speaking again, saying, “I think he's telling the truth, Eiji.” Himura had not been too concerned that the left-hand man of Shishio's organization was still on the loose, and if Himura had not been concerned, then Misao put some faith in Himura's trust. Dropping her hand from Eiji's shoulder as the boy grunted and crossed his arms over his chest quite angrily, she said, “I would love to help, but I'm looking for someone. Maybe you've seen a sign of this particular person around? He's quite tall, broad-shouldered, muscular and has a square jaw and black hair. Last I know, he was wearing a white mantle with red lining...”

She trailed off as she saw Soujirou frown ever so slightly before the swordsman said, “Maybe... I heard rumors of a person matching that description traveling north, which incidentally, is also where rumors of more kidnapped children and wagons are.”

“All right, then I'm coming with you,” she declared, ignoring the surprised look that appeared on the young man's face. Turning to Eiji, she said, “I bet your adopted parents are worried about you. There should be an inn down this mountain and through the forest. The Tokaido road is pretty filled with travelers that can help you and the other children back to their hometowns. Take them and go.”

“No way in hell,” Eiji said, waving his hand slightly towards the children. “They can follow your directions, but there's no way I'm letting that bastard out of my sight. Not until I march him into the main Tokyo police station.”

“Eiji,” she said, annoyed at just how obstinate the boy was behaving. “Do you even know how to defend yourself? You don't even have a sword.”

“I've been taking a few lessons at the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu school,” he answered, though Misao could not tell if he was lying or not. She suspected the former, but felt that it was cruel to call out the boy on his lie – Eiji was already on edge, and she didn't want to push him over.

“I'd rather not have anyone following me--” Soujirou sheepishly began, but was immediately cut off with a resounding 'No!' from both Misao and Eiji.

“I'm looking for that man, and I might as well help you stop these kidnappers while I'm at it,” she said, glaring at Soujirou.

“And I'm not letting you out of my sight, bastard,” Eiji angrily said.

She saw the swordsman sigh in a manner that was reminiscence of Himura's exasperated expression, but did not linger to further argue the futility of their joining him. Instead, he headed over towards the second wagon and started to untie and unhitch the horses. Both Misao and Eiji did the same to the third wagon and when all horses had been brought to the wide-eyed children, the three of them started to mount the children up on the horses until two were left.

After giving instructions to the oldest-looking of the children to head down the mountain and towards the Tokaido road, Eiji said in a quiet, embarrassed tone, “I don't know how to ride a horse.”

“You can ride with me,” Misao said, and hopped onto the nearest one while Soujirou took the other horse. Reaching down, she lifted the boy up by his arms and turned slightly to help him scramble up to the back. The horse shifted a bit underneath them to adjust to the weight, causing Eiji to panic, stiffen, and immediately wrap his arms around her in fright. She too stiffened, but only because the boy had wrapped her arms around an area that she rather not have him grab.

“Eiji,” she hissed. “Let go. You're grabbing my breasts, you pervert.”

The boy's reaction to let go was instantaneous and a moment later, tentative arms, still frightened, but this time a little more cautious, encircled her waist. More comfortable, and certain that Eiji would not repeat his mistake, she kicked the sides of the horse and together, the three of them galloped off.

* * *

Squawking seagulls punctuated the lively noise of people milling about the port, going about their business. Shouts for dock workers to help offload or steady a piece of precariously dangling cargo off ropes competed with the cry of the opportunistic gulls. Children of all ages, dressed from lovely kimonos to raggedy clothes ran around the place, while dockside vendors hawked their wares.

“Hey, Aoshi!” a cheerful voice called out to him as he looked around and spotted a familiar tuft of red hair among the crowds.

As he approached, he tucked his kodachi sheathe a little close to him, careful to not let it bump into any passerby. He was wearing his usual outfit, which included his long, pale trench coat, and not the police uniform he had been issued. Ever since taking on his former mentor's role as the spymaster for the Kyoto Police Force, he had not been too comfortable with both the uniform and role, but knew that it was necessary to ensure that the people he cared about were safe. The Oniwabanshuu was not operating at even a fraction of the capacity they had before and during the revolution, and to ensure that nothing like the past summer's events happened again, he knew that it was necessary to take on the role.

Nodding in greeting as he stopped in front of his friend, he saw Tetsunosuke grinning up at him before gesturing for him to follow. Walking slightly behind but to the side of his friend, he heard the man say, “Don't know if you heard, but Himura-san and Okita-san left a day ago, headed towards Fukushima.”

Puzzled as to why both the ex-hitokiri and former Shinsengumi captain were traveling, he frowned, but his unasked question was answered as Tetsunosuke had caught his expression and said, “Oh, yeah, forgot to tell you. Apparently, they're working on trying to find those responsible for kidnapping children. Susumu thinks that opium is starting to rear its head again here, and that it's a new type of opium. We don't know who's responsible for it, but we think that they've been using people who have taken that stuff to cause distractions. Twice now the police have caught bandits in the act of abduction while using people who had taken the new type of opium to draw crowds in and leave alleyways clear.”

“What does that have to do with the people that Himura and Okita are investigating?” he asked, looking around the crowds as he tried to see if there were any unsavory persons following them or attempting to listen in on their conversation. As dangerous as it was for Tetsunosuke to be giving out this sort of information in such a crowded place, it also afforded him the best opportunity to ferret out any potential interlopers.

He had been given bare details as to why the doctor requested his presence in Tokyo, and given what he knew about Tetsunosuke's missing brother, he was suspicious at just how much of a coincidence to the many things that had happened in the span of less than two weeks. Of course, he already knew via the Imperial spy network that someone had already been dispatched to rescue Ichimura Tatsunosuke, and therefore, he did not tell Tetsunosuke of his missing brother. He knew very little of the details, and therefore, to tell his friend would put necessary worry on Tetsunosuke's burdened mind. His friend had already been through too much this past summer, and even though he looked quite cheerful now, Aoshi could still see that traumatic and psychological scars were still present.

“Apparently, that's where Okita's sister and brother-in-law were last seen living. Himura-san and Okita-san also encountered a swordswoman who was proficient in Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu.” In a quieter tone, he heard Tetsunosuke say, “They were defeated and almost killed, had it not been for the woman's master who intervened.”

Aoshi stopped, and could not help but stare at Tetsunosuke. Two of the strongest swordsmen had been defeated...it was impossible, almost laughable, but there was truth shining in Tetsunosuke's eyes that told him that it was true. Of course, he knew that there were some medically limiting factors to Okita utilizing his full potential, but to hear that _both_ the Hitokiri Battousai and the First Unit Captain of the Shinsengumi _defeated_...

“Okita-san suspects that the swordswoman is his niece, Okita Midori. Himura-san suspects that the woman's master may be of relation to Hiko Seijuurou, Himura-san's master. They sent a pigeon down...did you guys get it?”

“It must have been after I left then,” he stated as they started walking again. “The Old Man will know what to do if they received it.”

“Good,” Tetsunosuke nodded. “I've been running around here trying to see if my contacts have any information about the opium black market. None of them did. Susumu said that you might've had some experience dealing with the opium trade and could possibly help me?”

Though his gait hitched for a second, he was tall enough to disguise it to keep Tetsunosuke from seeing his hesitation. The message had been vague, and had piqued his suspicions, but considering he had blatantly forced the doctor to come down to Kyoto a few months ago for a particular poison investigation, he supposed that he did indeed, owe Dr. Yamazaki a favor. And now, it looked like the good doctor was cashing in on that favor.

“Possibly,” he stated as neutrally as possible. He didn't ask, but he did have a hunch that if the doctor was investigating a new breed of opium not only for the police but also for the medical community, Dr. Takani was most likely also involved. He wondered how they had contacted Dr. Takani, considering that the woman had all but disappeared when she had left for Aizu last year.

“All right then, where do we start?”

“Go back to Yamazaki's clinic, Tetsunosuke,” he stated. “I need every single detail that he has on the new type of opium. I'm assuming that you're staying at an inn here at the harbor?”

“Yeah, the one right above that dockside gyoza place we just passed,” Tetsunosuke answered.

“I'll meet you back there in the middle of the hours of the boar,” he stated.

“Sure thing. I'll make sure Susumu and Takani-sensei clarify anything that doesn't make sense.”

Ah, so that answered the question of whether or not Takani Megumi was in town. As he watched Tetsunosuke leave, he glanced around again, for he thought he had sensed someone trying to listen in. He could see no one, and soon, Tetsunosuke disappeared down into another street, headed towards Tokyo. While he had absolutely no intention in dragging his friend further into his past actions as Takeda Kanryuu's enforcer, he still needed as much information as possible about the new opium. He was sure that a few of the old black market contacts from his days as an enforcer were still operating not only here, but also within Tokyo.

First things first, was to see if Takeda's contacts were still hanging around Yokohama. If they were, then the shakedown would begin.

* * *

_A few days later..._

 

“Will there be a problem with _that_ man, my apprentice?”

“No. He died after we evacuated Edo. My _mother_ left him there to die a pathetic dog's death. Whoever this man is, is an imposter.”

“Good.”

“Master, who is this 'Himura Kenshin' person you spoke of?”

Yahiko stirred as a chilly night breeze carried the low sounds of conversation towards the particular wagon he was crammed into. Blinking as the night air continued to work its way through him, especially since the campfires that dotted the area where they and two other wagons had stopped to make camp for the night, he raised his head slightly. His hands and feet were still tied up, though it felt as if someone had entered the cage to make the bindings tighter while they had been sleeping. There was a full harvest moon in the sky, but it was currently covered by some clouds. Beyond where he had been lying, crunched and uncomfortably curled up next to a young child curled up against his back and Yuki who was facing him, he saw a couple of the bandits walking around, occasionally swinging their swords and staff around.

There were at least three campfires that dotted the area, and he could see two people sitting at the one that was closest to him, though it seemed like that their backs were turned away from him. He wondered when did the two strangers arrive, for before he had fallen asleep, it had only been the bandits who were crouched around the campfires.

It had been the smaller of the two, a woman judging by the sound of her voice, who had asked the question. Before he could think anymore about the question and the implications of it being asked, the man sitting next to her rumbled, “He is a person of no consequence. It is only because of the agreement that we have with the 13th Master that he was not killed.”

“But you are the 14th Master, Master,” the woman insisted, though Yahiko could barely hear her words since they were hissed in a low tone. “Why not just kill the previous master and be done with it?”

“If only it were easy to find him.”

Yahiko sucked in a quick breath, though his jaw still twinged in pain when he did that as he tore his gaze away from the campfire and looked around. Kenshin's name had been directly spoken by the woman – how did she or rather, the man know Kenshin? And if the woman referred the man as the 14th Master, was the man the 14th Master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu? He thought that Kenshin had inherited the title after learning the final two forms last year. Who were this man and woman?

He knew that he had to escape, and even though they had been traveling through forests and hills for days upon end, his attempts had been made in vain. Each time the bandits had stopped to allow the children to relieve themselves, they had only allowed one child at a time to get out. One bandit ensured that the cage was locked while the other gripped the child by both arms to ensure that the child did not attempt escape while relieving him or herself. It was quite humiliating and degrading to be treated as such.

Both Yahiko and Yuki had attempted to escape, as did a few other children, but due to the lack of nourishing food within them, the bandits had been quicker and thrashed them quite badly with the back of their swords. One had even broken the leg of a child, before callously leaving the screaming child in the middle of the forest. The child's phantom cries were still ringing in his ears.

“It's this one, Master,” a sinister voice suddenly whispered into his ears. He didn't even get a chance to cry out before a vice-like grip clamped down upon his throat, slammed him into the cage, and squeezed. However, his thrashing of his legs, and flailing of his arms did wake up the other children.

“Let him go!” he barely heard Yuki scream as darkness crawled from the edges of his eyes and the sweet breath of air was being squeezed out of him. Vainly pulling at the hands that had gripped his neck from behind, he tried to pry, tried to use what little strength he had left, but even that was a futile gesture.

He didn't know if the boy's shouts stopped the choking, but a moment later, he found himself hauled up by the front of his uwagi, the hands that had been around his throat letting go. He heard the sleeve of his clothes rip, caught on something sharp as he was hauled and thrown out of the wagon cage. Landing on the cold ground in a heap, he bit back a hiss of pain from the impact as he greedily gobbled the sweet air. However, the shock between his near-death in choking along with the suddenly explosion of air was too much for his body to handle and he coughed. But even that was short-lived as he heard another boy's yell sail past him before another body landed near where he was curled on the muddy ground.

His budding warrior's instinct, however, reacted quite differently, and faced with this suddenly freedom from the cage, he tried to bolt up, only to come face-to-face with the tip of a sword pointed at his head. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the bandits surround both him and the other boy who had been thrown out – Yuki – and point their weapons towards them.

“It's this one, Master,” the woman repeated, as he stared back up the length of the sword, realizing that it was the woman who had initially choked him. He couldn't not identify the woman, due to the fact that she had a cloth covering the lower-half of her face, and the upper half that was exposed was shadowed by firelight. “This is the boy that Himura must be looking for.”

“And what of this other boy?” the man rumbled, approaching, though with the sword and the woman filling his vision, Yahiko could not see the man.

“He was captured while defending the young woman that we wanted to abduct, Master,” the woman stated. “We best leave both of them with a _gift_ , I presume, so that Himura does not pursue us.”

He definitely did not like the intonation in the woman's tone when 'gift' was mention, but fortunately, the man said, “No. Leave them as they are. Inform the others that they should set out before dawn arrives.”

Just as the woman backed away, though her sword was still out and pointed at him, the man stepped forward, partially filling his vision. With the clouds peeling back, allowing the harvest moon to shine down upon the hilly field camp, he could not help but suck in a surprised breath. The man who glared down at him with an impassive look, looked just like Kenshin's master.

Before he could even utter an exclamation, the high-pitched whinny of horses and the thundering of hooves on the ground filled the air. It was swiftly followed by shouts from the bandits and was answered by inarticulate sounds of _ki-ai_. The sword tip immediately left his vision, but he was not fast enough to roll backwards and attempt to lash out with his legs towards the woman. Instead, he did manage to trip up one of the many bandits. The bandit dropped to the ground with a yelp, and Yahiko took the opportunity to butt his head into the bandit's own, knocking the man out. Rubbing his tied wrists as quickly as he could over the naked blade that the bandit had dropped, it took a few moments for the ropes to snap off. Quickly untying the ropes around his ankles, he snatch up a thick branch and smack it against another bandit's head to stop the bandit from ambushing Yuki, who was also trying to get free.

He could hear the cries of children all around him, with some of them running away, since someone had managed to break open the lock on the wagon that he had been sitting in. Others were in the midst of trying to free themselves from the ropes that bound them. The best he could do now, was to ensure that the bandits did not try to go after the children who had managed to get free.

With the moon shining brightly, he gripped the end of branch as if it were a bokken and jumped into the fray, attacking any bandit that he could see. He managed to catch one of the three fighting against Yuki off guard by plowing into the man's legs, before swinging his branch to knock the bandit flat onto his stomach. As unfamiliar as he was with the style that the boy studied, he looked back up to see the other two bandits fly back slightly before two swift bops on the head rendered them unconscious.

A faint grin worked its way up his lips as he gave Yuki an enthusiastic nod before the two heard a familiar voice cry out, “Kansatsu Tobikunai!”

“Misao!” he heard Yuki shout, quite elated.

A flurry of at least twenty flecks of metal flew through the air, felling several more bandits. But it was the clash of swords, of metal meeting metal glinting in the firelight and accented by the moonlight, that caught his attention. He could barely see the swordsmen move, with the speed of their strikes much too fast for him to follow in the near-darkness, but he could tell by the stark white blurs that their two captors were fighting against someone of equal strength.

“Hey! They're getting away!” another familiar voice shouted, drawing his attention away from the frenzied fight. The snap of leather against hide and the whinny of horses filled the air as he saw the shadowed outlines of two of the three wagons and their carts of children start their escape. Running as fast as he could, he tried to catch up, and even tried to throw his branch into the axle of the nearest departing wagon, but it fell short of hitting its target.

He saw an older boy also trying to run towards the wagon, and realized that it was Mishima Eiji, who had recently started to attend a few lessons at Kaoru's dojo, who had shouted the alert. However, it was already too late as the two wagons gathered up speed and thundered away.

“Gah!” he heard Misao shout in frustration as a lone horse's whinny accompanied the last of the bandits' groans in being knocked down. Silhouetted in the firelight, he saw the woman climb up on a horse, but before she was able to kick the horse into a gallop to pursue the bandits, a guttural scream filled the air that was quickly silenced. Moments later, the impact of a body against the side of the lone wagon was heard.

The wagon tipped over as part of it shattered with the force of the impact, and Yahiko's eyes strayed not to whomever had hit the wagon, but towards the swordswoman and the man who looked just like Kenshin's master. It was frightening, to see the glints in their eyes as they took one look at the rest of them, judging them to only be like ants unworthy of their attention, then turn to get on their horses. The two were already well on their way to escaping the area by the time he snapped out of his fugue and hurried over to the tipped wagon.

Yuki and Misao, who had abandoned her attempted pursuit, were already there, trying to extract the swordsman, and in the moonlight, Yahiko could clearly see that the swordsman's clothes were soaked in blood. However, it was the youthfulness of the swordsman that surprised him.

“Why the hell are you helping him?!” he heard Eiji angrily demand as he looked up to see the older boy stomp over. “Leave the bastard alone! Those bandits are getting away!”

Before he could intervene, Eiji had grabbed Yuki by the shoulder, but the younger boy was faster in reacting and merely turned, placing a firm hand on Eiji's wrist. There was a level gaze in the boy's eyes that spoke of brokering no quarter or mercy, and Yahiko could not help but shudder slightly at just how lifeless Yuki's eyes looked for that brief instant. He also saw the older boy's eyes bluge out for a second before he let go of the boy's shoulder. Stepping in, Yahiko pushed Eiji back, allowing Yuki and Misao room to extract the young swordsman.

“Who is he?” he asked, hoping to divert Eiji's attention, knowing that despite the adrenaline that was still running through him, a level head was desperately needed to combat the irrational anger of Eiji. While he knew little of the older boy, he knew that Kenshin had encountered and rescued the boy during his travel to Kyoto last summer to defeat Shishio. He couldn't say that he and Eiji were friends, since they had not spoken much to each other and sparred on occasion during practice, but he could sense that Eiji was not normally like this.

Unfortunately, his question served not to calm the boy down, but to further agitate him as the boy vitriolically said, “That's the bastard that watched my family die at the hands of Shishio's lackey. He just stood there and smiled while Kenshin fought Senkaku before his _master_ told him to delay Kenshin. That bastard also broke Kenshin's sword.”

“Wait, what?” he said, half-shouting his question as he looked back from the boy towards the young swordsman who was now on the ground and being medically tended to by Yuki. Misao had hurried to the nearest campfire to create a makeshift torch. Ice formed in his stomach as he asked, “That's the guy who broke Kenshin's sword?”

“Yes,” he heard Misao speak up in a testy tone as she returned with with makeshift torch. She had been the one to tell him about the swordsman who had broken Kenshin's sakabatou last year, and how it eventually culminated in the desperate fight at the temple where Kenshin had received the second sakabatou. Never mind that Yahiko had wished that he had been there to help Kenshin during the temple fight, but it the fact that someone had cleanly broke Kenshin's blade with one strike from draw to hit, haunted his thoughts. He had learned the name of the enemy later, but even after Shishio's defeat, they had never captured the swordsman.

“He's Seta Soujirou?!”

* * *

_Meanwhile, in the north, at Hakodate..._

 

Panting not only from running as fast as she could through the unfamiliar stone halls of the great fortress, but because it was also quite cold, Sakamoto Oryou risked a glance back to ensure that no one was pursuing her. She kept the words of her savior droning in her head, urging her legs to carry her faster out of the damnable fortress. Somewhere, she knew that the person who had found her and set her free was one of Yamagata Aritomo's people, but it had been the fact that her savior had spoken in a woman's voice that had shocked her.

She had received a slap to her face in the wake of her shock, but no apology – not that she expected one – to snap her out of her shock. Oryou, as she had been known while her first husband had still been alive, had gotten over that slap and now, she was running down empty halls, passing a few bodies that looked to either be dead or sleeping – she couldn't tell. Her savior was also somewhere in the midst of this enormous fort, searching for her second husband, Ichimura Tatsunosuke.

It was he who was the more valuable of the two of them. While their captors had not tortured them yet and had merely been quite cordial thus far, she knew that the longer that Tatsunosuke resisted, the more impatient their captors would become in securing their cooperation. She knew that she was a liability, but she did wish that Tatsunosuke had been found first instead of her. He had the key, the ability to help them, while she merely had the historical knowledge that they did not want released.

It had been out of sheer curiosity that she had managed to open the lockbox long ago, when Ryouma had left it in her care while he traveled to Osaka and Kyoto during the revolution. It had also been that dangerous knowledge that had gotten Ryouma assassinated before he could return to her. She kept the lockbox safe as she had promised him, but after he had been killed, she had never opened it again until Tatsunosuke had unexpectedly arrived at her doorstep.

Of course she had known about Tatsunosuke from Ryouma's descriptions of the brilliantly-minded man that was helping him translate documents and other items, but she had not known that it was him who had deciphered the contents of the lockbox until he had told her. She had also found out that Ryouma had extracted a promise from Tatsunosuke to keep her and the lockbox safe should anything happen to him. Though she had initially resisted and rejected Tatsunosuke's help, the organization eventually hunted them down and forced them to flee the Satsuma province.

Now, as she made her way through chilly halls, hoping that she would not encounter any guards, she hoped that the person who had been sent to rescue them from the Chrysanthemum Guards was wily enough to not be caught. From what they did to those they captured, and those they hunted, she knew that she and her husband were lucky that they had not yet been forcefully 'persuaded' to join their cause.

Even luckier had been Ryouma – he had been killed, rather than captured and submitted to their absolute doctrine.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saitou currently has an out-of-office/headspace reply and the only thing it says is: Aho. Hopefully, he'll be back in the office/headspace come next chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 23 March 2016 - I'm back! (and I hope I got the POV of several characters correct after such a long time of not writing in this story)

**Chapter 9**

_Year: Past, Western New Year, 1868_

 

“Keep this firmly braced against here,” Tatsu heard the heavily accented, but still understandable Japanese being said as he walked slightly behind Hijikata and Okita towards the area where their primary foreign contact was training a few Shinsengumi members on how to use and fire western flintlock rifles. He was not here to learn how to shoot a rifle, but rather take an accounting as to how many barrels of powder, musket balls, and wadding was needed against whatever money they had left in the Shinsengumi's account.

Kondou was not currently present at the compound, having gone out with a few of the others for a goodwill patrol around Fushimi. Tatsu knew that the underlying meaning of the patrol was to also try to continue to clear Kondou's name, for rebel elements were trying to pin Sakamoto Ryouma's death upon their commander. However, with as many patrols as they had done so far, it was not the fact that Kondou had been blamed for the death of one of the rebels' most celebrated leaders, but the fact that he had been killed not two days after secretly meeting with him, Tatsu, and warning him about potential people from the so-called Chrysanthemum Guards tailing him. Tatsu was very nervous at that prospect and even with the Abarakoji incident that flushed out and eliminated the traitorous elements of those who had defected from the Shinsengumi, he still did not feel safe.

“Fire!”

As they rounded the corner of the building that separated them from the makeshift firing range, he peeked out from behind the vice-commander and First Unit captain. A rather loud staccato of rifles being fired into archery targets filled the air. Grey smoke lingered for a moment among those who fired the rifles before a bitterly cold breeze blew the smoke away. He saw the foreigner walk among the targets, examining the accuracy of the shots, as those who fired their rifles reloaded in a mostly uncertain manner.

“Ah, what an _excellent_ shot!”

It was only because he had heard his father say that particular foreign word that Tatsu knew what it meant, and to his horror, he looked down the line of those Shinsengumi learning how to fire rifles and saw a tuft of red hair at the end of the line. The target that their foreign contact was examining was also at the end of the line.

“Tetsu!” he growled, stalking forward, not caring if it was a breach of protocol or some other unspoken rule within the group that he was violating. His brother was his concern, and after seeing the demonstration a few days ago that the foreigner who was training a few of them on rifling had shown, he did not want his brother to learn how to easily kill people with such a weapon. It was already enough that Hijikata had tried and failed to prevent his brother from obtaining swords, and either occupying or sending him on far away errands whenever there was an attack to prevent him from joining the fights. This... this, firing something so easy, so simplistic that anyone could kill a person from afar was dangerous.

Sakamoto's demonstration with his revolver the first time he and his brother had met the strange man was proof enough that such weapons were dangerous. There was no honor in shooting someone, just like he felt that there was no honor in killing someone with the sword – only mass murder. With Sakamoto dead and Chrysanthemum Guards potentially searching for him, there was little hope that Tatsu could now conceivably leave the Shinsengumi in a peaceful manner. He needed to find a way to get his brother out of the den of wolves before something bigger was going to happen, and before his brother could fully embrace such a bloody route in life.

He forcibly yanked on his brother's shoulder, causing him to drop the ramrod and wadded musket ball onto the snowy ground. “Get back to your chores! You don't have permission to be here!”

The sting of his brother slapping his hand away as he turned with an extremely angry look upon his face hurt more than it should have. “No,” Tetsu answered. “Stop coddling me! I'm not a child anymore! Go back to your abacus, you coward, and leave me alone!”

To any other person within the Shinsengumi, those words would have been a death sentence, but to him, it just served to make him angrier. “Yeah,” he stated after a moment, reigning in as much of his fury from his tone as possible, “You're not a child anymore, but mother and father--”

“Are dead!” Tetsu exploded, dropping his rifle and balling up his fists, taking a step towards him in a threatening manner. “They're dead and they're not here to dictate what we can and can't do! Stop hiding behind them! Stop--”

“Ichimura!”

Both Tatsu and his brother froze at the infuriated tone that Hijikata had spoken in, realizing that they had all but completely disappeared into their own little bubble within the public grounds of the compound in their argument. Looking up, Tatsu saw a thunderous expression upon the vice-commander's face, while Okita had the most neutral of looks upon his.

He immediately stepped back from his brother, bowing deeply as he said, “I apologize for my words and actions, Hijikata- _fukuchou_ , and will receive any punishment you see fit.”

He dared not reach out towards his brother like so many times before, seeing him obstinately standing his ground. A moment later, he saw him bow very slightly, muttering his apology as well. Whereas he, Tatsu, remained in his deep, apologetic bow, Tetsu stood back up and abruptly walked away. Tatsu could hear his brother's feet crunching in the snow as he went to wherever he was supposed to be to finish whatever chores he had been assigned that day.

It was only after the sounds of Tetsu's footsteps fading away that he heard Hijikata rumble, “We'll speak of this later, Ichimura.”

“Yes, _fukuchou_ ,” he hastily answered, straightening and pulling out the small abacus and the ledger that held their current monetary accounting out from being tucked under his thick, double-layered uwagi. He would not be punished yet, but he knew that he already knew that his actions could never be repeated in public again – that is if he were not ordered to commit seppuku for what he had done just now. Pushing away all thoughts of his troublesome brother, of Sakamoto, and of the Chrysanthemum Guards, he concentrated his efforts on the here and now.

* * *

The crisp, clear, and cold winter night was a welcome for many inhabitants of the sleepy town for there was nary a breeze in the air, and the wet feeling that saturated the place was all but non-existent. It however, did nothing to alleviate the pain in Okita's chest, along with his coughs which had started back up only a week ago. He had thought that those couple of blissful weeks where he had felt stronger and immensely free of the aching pain that wracked his body whenever he coughed, along with the shortness of breath would last longer, but it was not so. Still, he was grateful for what little time he had been given in those weeks to enjoy what life was left within him.

Now though, he knew that Hijikata would be quite angry at him for wandering out and about when he should have been tucked away in his room, under thick covers with a small in-ground hearth burning merrily to keep the room warm. He could even hear the ghostly voice of the vice-commander sternly admonishing him, and it brought a smile to his lips along with a short burst of laughter issuing out of his mouth.

That cheerful thought was quickly dashed though, as he turned at the bend and to the open rifling range that had been set up in the compound. The targets were still there, standing proudly under the starry night sky, but he approached a particular one at the far end of the range. Stopping before it, he gingerly reached out with a hand and brushed against the fabric of concentric circles that had been painted in alternating black ink upon white fabric. He could feel the rough, bumpy straw bundled behind the targets, and at the center of the target, the tips of his fingers finally brushed against a particular area. It was hard to see, but with the proclamation by their foreign guest who was training some of the men, he supposed that it should not have been a surprise that it had come to this – that Ichimura Tetsunosuke was quite accurate with a rifle.

The hole made by the musket ball was not quite at the center of the target, but it was close enough, and Okita had clearly seen the thinning of Hijikata's lips at their foreign guest's praise of the young man's rifling skills. He had never told him that he had secretly seen Tetsu throw a coin into a shrine's prayer box one random day from near the torii of the place. He thought that it was just a skill that Tetsu had picked up from his younger, more carefree days before his parents had been killed. He had thought that it meant nothing except that the young man was slightly odd in how he wanted his prayers answered.

Now though it told him everything, and it was much too late for him to mention it to the vice-commander. After what they had witnessed today, he knew that Hijikata would do everything in his power to keep Tetsu from firing another rifle, in addition to the already unstated order that the young man was to never engage in any fight whenever the Shinsengumi fought en-masse. But he did not have the heart to tell him that this was also too late – Tetsu was drawn to rifling as he had been drawn to the sword. This was where the young man's forte laid, and it was where the future, no matter how much they fought, was going. He wished--

Okita suddenly stiffened as he held himself still, feeling a very strange presence enter the peripheral of his awareness. As his right hand fingers hovered over the hole in the haystack and cloth target that had been created by the musket ball, his left hand slowly rose up towards his sword. As soon as his left hand fingers lightly touched his scabbard and the edge of the hilt of his katana, he whirled around, clamping his right hand upon the hilt, drawing the blade out. In one fluid, smooth movement, he had cleared the blade, and halted as he faced the empty firing range.

His breath came out in huffs as he felt a slightly painful warmth from deep within his chest. The barest of breezes blew through the area, bringing with it the smell of firewood and strangely enough, the scent of chrysanthemums. It was the middle of winter, and as odd as the scent had quickly come, it disappeared within the smoky smell. He slowly blinked, and waited a few moments more – the uneasy feeling that he had felt moments ago was no longer there. How unusual...

* * *

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

Misao fidgeted as she sat in seiza, having sat watching the country's most dangerous criminal for the better part of a few hours. Said criminal was lying prone and unconscious on a futon with covers drawn up to his chest that had been generously provided by their hosts who ran this little horse rearing business and stable. She wondered just how her cousin kept his cool and calm as she watched him lift up Soujirou's arm from under the covers and press two fingers on the underside of his wrist. As soon as Yuki was done taking the pulse of Soujirou, she saw him replace and tuck the young man's arm back underneath the covers.

“Steady,” she heard Yuki quietly state, looking far older and more tired than she had ever seen him at his young age. Though he was less than four years away from his fifteenth birthday, at this moment, he looked as if he was past that age. With what had happened in Kyoto in the summer's past, she didn't blame him for having such a haunted look, though it worried her that he was never going to fully recover from what had happened. She herself still couldn't truly believe what had happened to not only Aoshi but also to Yamazaki, her parents, grandfather, and her aunt during the revolution.

She looked around the room, with the only sort of decoration being a small alcove on the far side that contained a two-tiered stand that held a daishou pair – katana and wakizashi. There was also a plain wooden desk with several bound books stacked on top of it in the corner. Their hostess, Takayama Tsuruko, had indicated that this was a study-room of sorts for the head of the household. It went without saying that their hostess' husband had been former samurai, though to Misao, the grace in which both their host and hostess had treated them indicated that they could have been upper class samurai. She had wondered which side they took during the revolution, but did not ask.

Misao heard a noise behind her and turned slightly to see the partition open and Yahiko wander in, nosily plopping down on the tatami mat, asking, “So, how is he?”

“Sleeping, which is a good thing,” Yuki answered. “One of us will have to wake him in a couple of hours so that he can at least drink some water. If he's feeling well, then maybe you guys can ask your questions.”

“Where's Eiji?” she asked, worried. As soon as the boy had woken up, recovering from whatever minor injuries that he had sustained, he had tried to go down the dusty road and to the town's center. Both she and Yahiko had forcibly stopped the boy, but had ended up knocking him out. The second time Eiji had woken up, it had been Yahiko who had calmly explained that they needed answers from Soujirou and after those answers were received, _then_ Eiji could go into the town and alert the police.

Yahiko shrugged, “Still sleeping as well. After what happened yesterday, he's grumpy enough that he's not going to get out of bed unless its to go eat or go relieve himself. I don't blame him either.”

“This is for the better,” she declared, though to herself it sounded more like a reassurance than a declaration. “This lout knows something about those children being kidnapped and those people who practice Kenshin's style.”

“I still can't believe that there's other people who practice that style... I mean, I always thought that Kenshin and his master were the only ones... and Kenshin said that he's never passing on his style, even after mastering it,” she heard Yahiko sigh.

“So this sword style you guys keep on talking about... is that what caused the Aoiya and the surrounding buildings last year to be nearly demolished?” Yuki asked, curious.

“Ah yeah, that's where I remember you from!” Yahiko nearly crowed, to which Misao immediately shoved a hand upon the boy's mouth to shush him. When she let go, the boy said in a quieter tone, “Ever since we ran into each other at the Akabeko, I was wondering why you looked familiar. You returned to the Aoiya last year after the end of Shishio Makoto's rampage, right?”

“Yeah,” Yuki answered, nodding his head slightly. “So, this sword style...”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Misao jumped in, as she saw a change pass through Yahiko's expression, realizing that he was putting two and two together about Yuki's heritage. Yahiko was not the most discreet of persons, even by her own standards, and she knew that declaring the fact that a certain Shinsengumi captain was still alive, even if they were in safe haven was never the best. Their host and hostess may have suffered, aided the Shinsengumi, or didn't even know the group, and they did not need anymore complications than what they already faced.

Though she had not been present when Kenshin and Okita Souji had first met under more peaceful circumstances last year, she had heard all about the encounter from Yahiko who could not stop talking about it to her until he left Kyoto “According to Ji-ya and the others, it's supposed to be the strongest and most powerful of styles.”

“So then how come those two didn't kill him?” Yuki asked, sobering both Misao and Yahiko up quite quickly. “They just escaped when by rights, they should have killed all of us and then escaped.”

“That man was setting us free,” Yahiko said after a moment of silence. “The woman, she wanted to kill us, to make an example to Kenshin. I'm sure of it. I just don't understand why he looks like Kenshin's master and why they set us free.”

“It's because he is a practitioner of the same style as Himura-san,” a croaky voice issued up from between all of them.

Before any of them could react to Soujirou's words, the partition to the room where the young man was recovering was slid open again as their hostess entered with a tray of tea. Upon seeing the four of them, especially the one who had been injured quite badly, she smiled and said, “It is good to see you awake and feeling better, good sir.” Setting the tray down, she passed out the two mugs of tea that she had brought with her, while Yuki carefully raised Soujirou up from his prone position to at least take a sip of the tea. “I shall be back momentarily with more tea and I do hope that perhaps the three of you would stay with your companion here for I have a few questions of my own. I tried to ask your companion, Fujita-kun, but it seems that he is not present at the moment.”

“What?” Misao started, just as Yahiko smacked his forehead, muttering to himself.

“I knew I shouldn't have left him alone!”

“He's going to get us in trouble,” Yuki said at the same time.

However, their complaints was all for naught as the pounding of footsteps upon the walkway and the clattering of partitions being slid open yielded the harried presence of their host, Takayama Nobuo, who immediately stated, “I need my sword! There are many bandits attacking trying to kidnap children in town! They're overwhelming the police force!”

The reaction to that declaration was immediate as Misao saw the woman's eyes widen slightly before she stood up from where she was kneeling and quickly crossed the room to snatch up the daisho pair. However, Misao, Yahiko, and Yuki had also stood at the same time, as Yahiko declared, “We're helping you!”

“Absolutely not!” Takayama declared. “You are staying here where it is safe! Did you not hear me earlier – there are bandits after _children_!”

“Yes, and all of us, including him--” Misao pointed straight at Soujirou “--were fighting them. That's how we all got injured. We've been trying to track them!”

She saw Takayama narrow his eyes slightly as his wife handed him his daishou pair before stating, “This is not as simple as chasing after bandits, and after what they did you, all of you, you should stay out of it. The revolution already had enough children growing up too early – you should not need to face such things in this new era.”

“But we already have, Takayama-san,” Yuki quietly spoke up before the man could leave. “Him,” the boy continued, gesturing to Yahiko, “he fought and won against a madman who was threatening to engulf all of Japan in another revolution. So did she.” Her cousin gestured to her. “Both she and I also fought during this past summer in Kyoto against a shadowy group bent on revenge that they nearly crippled the entire defense of the country. We all survived. We all know how to fight. Please, sir, let us help.”

Misao could see the man clench his jaw in anger, but it was surprisingly Soujirou who spoke up, saying, “I'm also helping. This was originally my own mission to stop these bandits before I encountered these three. I cannot let them or you fight them by yourselves.”

“But you're still injured, good sir,” Takayama's wife worriedly said. Though both Takayama and his wife had asked for Soujirou's name, Misao, Yuki, and Yahiko had thought it better to leave him unnamed. Eiji had disagreed, but fortunately, anytime the boy had tried to state Soujirou's name, one of them had been there to stop him.

“The horses are in the stables,” the man gruffly answered, turning and leaving before any of them could get a word of thanks out.

“You really should stay--” Yuki began, looking back down at Soujirou.

“And I thank you for tending to my injuries,” the young man answered, grunting as he pushed the covers off of him and slowly got up. “But it is as I said before. I cannot let you fight against this entity that I started myself. Himura-san would have never allowed it.”

“Thank you for all that you have done, Takayama-san,” Misao stated to their hostess.

“Please, be careful,” she answered, stepping back and letting them through. “The stables are just across the entrance. You can find wooden swords in the room that you're staying in, Myoujin-kun.”

Misao left as Yuki sighed in exasperation at his stubborn patient, hearing Yahiko follow her out. She knew that the two would catch up to them when Soujirou was dressed properly, and peeled off to the room that she had been sleeping in for the past few days. Her knives were still laid out beneath her futon as she flipped it over and started to arm herself. She wished that she had a tanto with her, but she had not armed herself with such a blade prior to leaving Kyoto. She had thought her mission was only to search for Hiko Seijuurou, not get caught up in a kidnapping search.

Stepping back out into the walkway, she saw Yahiko also step out of his room, armed with a wooden sword that he had found within. Together the two of them left the house and stepped out into the dirt road where Misao suddenly frowned. “Just across the road...” she muttered, as she stared across the road, through a rather large rice paddy field and to where there was indeed, a stable. “With unsaddled horses!” she shouted in exasperation.

She heard Yahiko sigh rather heavily from standing next to her before saying, “We might as well run to the town at this rate.”

“All right then,” she said. “Let's go.”

The entrance to the courtyard and home of their host and hostess slid open and Misao glanced back to see her cousin and Soujirou stepping through. “We're walking...running,” she bluntly stated, pointing to the overly large rice paddy field that separate them and the stable of unsaddled and free-ranging horses.

“Oh,” Yuki said, in a disappointed tone. “Nice delaying trick.”

That prompted a surprising snort of laughter from Soujirou before she saw him right himself, withdrawing the arm he had slung across Yuki's shoulder to help him up and out of the house. “This way to the town,” Soujirou stated, pointing to their right. “Takayama-san's horse tracks are still fresh.”

“So are Eiji's footprints,” she stated, noticing that there was a very slight indent on the ground about the size of the boy's feet. “Come on! Let's go!”

* * *

There was a time long ago, or it felt like a long time ago, that he had never had to be concerned with being injured, for he had been the fastest swordsman alive. That had changed last year, when the world that he knew had completely shattered into pieces, when a certain red-headed swordsman had shown him by sheer action what it meant to be the weak one. The strong lived, the weak died, and that mantra that he had lived by since that rainy day all those years ago, was destroyed. He had always been weak, always been chasing after a dream, an ideal that could never be, always telling himself that what he had done was justified. The one person who had been kind to him, had given him hope of a better life – sympathized with his plight – had been the cruelest.

But that was long ago, and now he had found a way to atone for what he had done. It didn't matter if his body was shattered beyond repair, that what Himura had inflicted upon him had slowed him down considerably – never mind the fact that he could never go back into his no-thought state of mind to unleash his particular speed skill ever again – if he still had breath within him, he would dedicate his life to eradicating this particular group before submitting himself to justice. It was the least he could do for all that he had done, for the country and its people were not weak – they were strong.

With pain lancing through each step that he took while running with his three other companions, Seta Soujirou continued on. He had not wanted to involve those who knew Himura, but he had been powerless to stop them. He did not have the commanding will of Shishio, the influence of Sadojima Houji, or the sheer force of kindness and compassion that belong to Himura Kenshin to keep the three, Machimaki Misao, Myoujin Yahiko, and Fujita Eiji, from following him. He wasn't too sure about who exactly the boy who had helped heal him thus far, Shirou Yukimura, was, other than it seemed that Machimaki and Myoujin knew and trusted the boy.

He did, however, adhere to not killing any of the bandits in their presence; knocking them out with the wooden sword that he and the boy, Shirou, had found within one of the rooms just before they had left the Takayama residence. His injuries were slowing his movements down a lot, and it was showing, for there were several times in which he had to strike more than once against the bandits they were pushing their way through.

Fires crackled and licked the blackened beams of houses, collapsing upon those unfortunate enough to not have gotten out of the buildings fast enough. Cries for fire brigades, along with those trying to stop the bandits from continuing to snatch away the children rang through the air. Shouts of policemen rallying and ordering groups to areas around the city sang through the air, but it was not enough. The bandits were many, and more kept escaping with their precious cargo tucked screaming and bawling under their arms.

The four of them fought their way to the center of the town, sending as many children they passed down other less dangerous alleyways, for they could not trust the civilians running about – the bandits and civilians alike were dressed too similar. What policemen they could find who was not busy trying to stop the bandits they sent after the children. At the center, they found Takayama, fighting fiercely, sword bloodied and still swinging as he held his ground. Several policemen who had been standing around him were dead on the ground, and there were two similarly dressed people clad in white mantle with a blood red lining, dark hakama, and pale uwagi, who were cutting through the rest of the policemen with ease. He recognized the two swordsmen. Soujirou could also clearly see Takayama trying to make his way towards the two people to engage them and to stop them from their slaughter.

However, before he could sprint towards Takayama and the two swordsmen, out of the far side of where he and the other three had emerged from came the thundering of hooves on the fire-draped, dusty roads. He was not the only one to dive out of the way, gritting his teeth as pain lanced through his body, his movements tearing through some of his wounds that had been stitched up earlier, feeling them reopen. Bandits, led by yet another rider wearing a white mantle lined with blood red cloth on the inside, charged through on horses. They were clutching the children they had snatched, tromping over whoever was unlucky enough to not scramble out of the way.

“Eiji!” he heard Machimaki cry out, just as he and the others saw the scrawny boy yell at the top of his lungs as he fought to get free from the clutches of one of the bandits who was charging through.

“Go!” he heard Takayama shout to them. “Stop them!”

Shunting the pain aside, he drew on whatever strength he had left and sprinted towards more bandits on horses coming in from the other side, slashing left, right, top to bottom, and to the side as fast as he could, unseating bandits on horses as he whirled in and around to avoid being trampled. The whinny of the startled horses abruptly stopping threw said bandits off and he quickly slashed at their throats and head, effectively knocking them out. Snatching Machimaki by the sleeve of her outfit, he shoved her towards one of the horses. He didn't bother glancing back to even heed her protests as he was made his way towards Takayama. Though he didn't know the full capabilities of Machimaki and the others, they were only going to catch up and face off against one practitioner of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. He could not let the former samurai face two dangerous practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu alone.

As soon as he stepped up next to Takayama, it was as if he and the stable owner were cocooned in their own world, facing off against two swordsmen, with the chaos surrounding them seemingly only a background noise. One of the swordsmen clearly held the features of a woman, standing as tall as he did. The other swordsman was taller than the woman, and had a piece of cloth covering the lower half of his face. The swordsman stood almost as tall as Takayama himself. But it didn't matter, for Soujirou knew who they were.

“Go. Stop the bandits from getting away. I can handle this,” he heard Takayama say.

“Such confidence in the face of such danger,” the swordswoman confidently said, flicking as much blood off of her katana as she could before sheathing it and crouched down into a familiar-looking battoujutsu stance.

Though he held a wooden sword, Soujirou mimicked the stance, knowing that he would only have one chance to intercept and dodge the swordswoman's drawing strike before she could hit Takayama. He knew not what style Takayama had practiced, but it was clear that the man had experienced battle before. However, against practitioners of the most power sword style, he felt that the man had a better chance of surviving against the swordswoman's apprentice.

“Come now,” the swordsman stated in an arrogant tone, taking his cue from the swordswoman. “Let us see what you really are made of... _father_.”

Before he had broken, such statements wouldn't have affected him so, but now, no longer possessing the abilities that had made him so dangerous, Soujirou's eyes widened very slightly as he saw the swordsman tug the face covering down as he flicked his eyes towards Takayama – surely the swordswoman's apprentice and Takayama were not related...?

The stable owner was frozen for a moment in pure shock, confirming the answer but that moment nearly turned into a deadly one as the swordswoman launched her attack. Soujirou managed spring off almost at the same time, but his momentum was slower, having been compounded by injury and the revelation of the father-son relationship that Takayama and the swordsman had. Just as he brought his wooden sword to bear, the sharp bladed tip of the swordswoman's attack, Soryuusen, flew perilously close to Takayama's neck. The man barely dodged the first attack, but it was the second one that Soujirou brought his wooden sword to bear upon.

Smashing his wooden blade in mid-draw against the scabbard that the swordswoman was bringing up to strike with her left hand, he momentarily arrested the movement of the swordswoman. However, it left him open and vulnerable to the bare blade she still held in her right hand. Agonizing pain lanced through his arms as he dragged his blade up against the scabbard, using what was left of his forward movement to whirl up and away. He could feel the sharp tip of her blade slicing shallowly into his back just as he heard the swordsman engage Takayama behind him with the Ryuutsuisen attack from on high.

Spinning completely away, he paused for just a moment, warily sizing up his opponent as he felt his wounds tear a little more and his blood trickle out some more, soaking through bandages. “Are you sure you really want to keep on doing this, Sou-kun?” the swordswoman taunted him. “You only have a wooden blade. What excuse will I have to give to your mother when I kill you?”

“To atone for what I have done, I would gladly give my life to stop all of you,” he answered, smiling. “I'm finishing what the 13th Master started.”

* * *

_A day later..._

 

The smell of burning flesh, be it horse or or otherwise was something that a normal person got used to, but Saitou ignored it, just as he had ignored countless of other times with the dead bodies of victims and culprits alike before, during, and after the Bakumatsu. He did, however, take a discreet look around him, noting the chaotic destruction that had been rendered to the buildings around him as the sounds of women and men wailing over their loss filled the air. Mixed into those sounds of heartache were the smashing of wood and tile as workers tried to tear down or repair what was left of this part of the town.

The sounds of hurried footsteps approaching caused his eyes to narrow slightly as he saw a familiar broom-haired man push past the dazed civilians and few policemen in the town that had not suffered injuries from not only the fire but also surprisingly, an attack by bandits of all people. As his personal spy, Sawagejou Chou, stopped before him, he narrowed his eyes slightly at the ex-Juppongatana member who had a surprisingly grim expression on his normally uncaring face. Far be it that he knew the man actually _cared_ about his work, only that he was paid appropriately and that he got whatever was requested done in exchange for his continued freedom on a leash.

“The bandits were being led by three people, two of them women. According to the reports, those policemen killed were hit only once,” Chou reported.

“Once?” he asked, fishing out his pack of cigarettes, suddenly feeling the need for the narcotic to work its way through him.

“Yeah,” the broom-headed man answered. “Most didn't even get a chance to draw their sabres before they were cut down. Didn't get to see any of the bodies through, they were all wrapped up and being prepared for burial. Seems that the bandits were after children and left the slaughtering to the three. Two people though, managed to stall two of the bandits, but the police say that the two were injured as well, though not killed.”

Saitou remained silent as he lit up his cigarette and took a deep draw from it. Giving the ex-Juppongatana an impatient look to continue for he was not going to even respond to the hook that the man had given, he waited until the man noisily sighed before saying, “Only one of the two is known, a man who goes by the name of Takayama Nobuo. They don't know who the other person is, except that he was young. They're both at Takayama's home, a small stable and horse rearing business. Down that way.”

“Find out more about the bandits,” he immediately stated as he glanced towards the direction that the man had pointed it.

As much as he was curious about the kidnapping of the children by bandits, it was not his task to investigate that. Initial reports had come in from another substation just south of Fukushima about there being an apparently brazen attack in broad daylight and that one of the bandits captured had been sporting a small tattoo that was in the vague shape of a chrysanthemum. That had led him here, and now, with what his personal spy had reported, the fact that policemen were cut down without a fight with just one blow seemed a little too coincidental and eerie.

Aside from his old comrade Okita, there were only two other people whom he knew who were still alive that could potentially cut down men with an ease of one single stroke. Himura Kenshin was in Tokyo and his vow of no-killing would only render men unconscious. However, Seta Soujirou was still on the loose – and apart from the concerning report that he had received just before he had left Kyoto after the events of the shinobi civil war during the summer, he had received a report that he could only guess at that attributed to the final, still-free Juppongatana member. Had the Battousai been wrong about the Seta boy wanting to atone for all that he had done at the command of Shishio Makoto?

“Not what they want with the children, but about the tattoos,” he continued, puffing away, “See what information they have on the bandit with the chrysanthemum tattoo. I'll be paying a visit to the Takayama family.”

There was a look of annoyance and disgust on the ex-Juppongatana's face, but he completely ignored it as he turned and headed down the street, knowing that the man would obey and continue to obey his orders until the day he died. The walk was not as long as he had anticipated, but where the Takayama family had made their home and business on the extreme outskirts of the town. Farmland and rice paddies surrounded the area, along with large fields filled with barebacked horses being fenced in. There were a few men and women working the fields who ignored him as he approached the small house in the middle of this large swath of land.

As he approached, he sensed something not quite fearful, but not calm either in the air, and as his right hand gripped his sabre, he tore the cigarette from in between his lips and let it drop to the dirt. Squashing it with his foot, he continued onward, and heard a male voice from inside shout, “I am sorry my dear, but I _have_ to go. They're not back yet, and it was I who sent them after those bastards.”

“But dear, you're still injured--”

The outer door abruptly slid open and a heavily-bandaged man stepped out dressed in a simple working hakama and uwagi with a sword at his waist, but as soon as he saw Saitou, the man halted his actions. “Dear--” Saitou heard a female voice plead before the man held up a hand to silence her.

Saitou stopped where he was, half in surprise, and half at the fact that there was a very guarded look upon the man's face. He didn't know the man in front of him; well, not well, for the last time he had seen the man was the first time he had also seen him – during the Shinsengumi's escape northwards towards Edo after the devastating loss sustained at the Battle of Toba-Fushimi. “Takayama Nobuo, I presume?” he stated. “Or should I call you, former Edo Shinchougumi Commander Okita Rintarou?”

“And you are?” the man answered, narrowing his eyes.

“Lieutenant Fujita Gorou of the Tokyo Police Force,” he introduced himself, as he saw the man's wife step out with a mixture of fear and concern in her eyes. “But you should know me as former Shinsengumi Third Unit Captain Saitou Hajime. Last and first time we met was during the initial siege of Edo.”

“Yes,” the man answered after a moment, though Saitou could see that the man did not drop his guard yet. “I do remember seeing you for a brief moment. What do you want?”

It was blunt, but it was to the point, and Saitou expected nothing less from the one who commanded the Shinsengumi's sister patrol force in Edo during those tumultuous days of the revolution. “My contacts at Fukushima's police station reported that you encountered two swordsmen, one female another male, and that they had killed several officers with one blow.”

The man was silent for a very long few moments, before saying, “I will answer your questions, Saitou-san, but I cannot stay long. I sent three people, three _children_ after those bandits that attacked yesterday and they still have not returned. Considering how well and hard they fought against the bandits in the town yesterday, I thought that they could try to stop the bandits. I was wrong.”

“Children against the bandits?” he asked, an exasperated and annoyed feeling washing over him. With all things considered, there were only two, perhaps three children in the country whom he considered competent enough to possibly face off against bandits and it was only because of the Battousai's involvement that got those children involved. _How_ those said children got involved in this bandit attack was another story. “Is one of them a brat by the name of Myoujin Yahiko?”

Surprise flitted through the stern expression upon the man and woman's faces as the former Shinchougumi commander answered, “Yes. The other two are a young woman named Machimaki Misao and boy named Shirou Yukimura. Do you know them? Have you seen them?”

Saitou resisted the urge to sigh and instead said, “If it is as you say, they are competent enough to strike down bandits, then there is little need to worry about them for now. Those three are extremely prone to getting into danger as well as getting themselves out of it.”

He saw him consider his words for a few minutes before saying, “Please come in and be quick with your questions, Saitou-san. You may have confidence in those children, but I do not. It is with my hope and wish that whatever answers I can provide you will speed you on your way to completing your investigation.”

Saitou followed the two into their modest-looking home, as the man's wife slid the door close, before murmuring, “I shall have one of the hands get a horse ready for you, dear.”

She bustled off to pass on the request but even before she disappeared from Saitou's view, he asked, “I heard that you and another man, a young one, fought two of the leaders of these bandits. Who is the other person who fought by your side?”

“That I do not know, for he did not give his name, and neither did the four children who were traveling with him,” the man answered. “They mentioned that they encountered elements of the kidnapping bandits before. One of the children was in the town and was snatched by the bandits, and the three that we just discussed went after them to rescue their friend and the other children.”

“What was the child's name?”

“Fujita Eiji, I think,” the man said, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. “It was very peculiar though, because every time he wanted to mention their companion's name to either me or my wife, his friends prevented him from doing so.”

Saitou thinned his lips. His adopted son had been missing, seemingly snatched off the streets while walking between the station where he, Saitou, worked, and home. Tokio had been worried sick over the boy's disappearance, and despite all of his scouring of reports, he had found no sign or mention or any sort of lead on where Eiji could have been taken to. Now, hearing that the boy was running around chasing after bandits who kidnapped children made him annoyed beyond words and somewhat oddly proud... except for the fact that Eiji had been caught yet again.

“Tell me about the leaders,” he said, pushing the thoughts of his adopted son and the others away for the moment. “What sword style did they use?”

“I've never seen such a style that both utilized,” the man said, gesturing to himself. “They moved so fast that I could barely keep up with their strikes. By rights, I should have been dead, but one of them stopped his companion from killing me. The young man who fought with me, he had been injured before, but he moved nearly as fast as they did. I thought Souji was the fastest man to wield a sword during the revolution and when he died, I thought that there would never be a faster swordsman than he. I was so wrong about that. Those two, and the young man traveling with those children... they're inhumanly fast.”

Saitou's frown got slightly deeper, for it was not the fact that Okita Rintarou and his wife had apparently not been informed by Okita himself about him still being alive, but something about the former Shinchougumi's words that gave him concern. Considering the demeanor of the man that he had grasped onto within the last few minutes, he knew that the man would have never dropped Okita's name so casually. Was there was some connection between the bandit leaders and Okita? “Did you recognize any of the leaders?” he asked.

The man was silent for a very long moment before whispering, “Yes.” At that moment, the man's wife returned to her husband's side and surprisingly, Saitou saw him step to the side, looking at both of them, saying, “I am terribly sorry, Mitsu, but I know one of those who attacked the city with those bandits.” There was a moment's pause of silence as Saitou saw the woman compose herself before her husband continued, saying, “Saitou-san, the young man that I and my companion fought against is our son, Kiyoshi.”

Silence answered his proclamation but not a moment later, Saitou heard the murmurs of denial issuing from the woman's lips as her husband hung his head, whispering, “I am sorry. I have failed as a husband and as a father.”

However, none of the spoke another word as Saitou thought he felt three familiar presences approaching when only one of the presences was supposed to be familiar. There was a rather loud knock on the outer courtyard door a few moments later that startled the other two as he turned towards the door, curious as to why the other two presences with the broom-headed man were here. Seeing that his wife was still stricken with grief, the former Shinchougumi commander managed to pull himself together enough to answer the knock with a commanding, “Who is it?”

“Sawagejou Chou, sir,” Saitou heard his personal spy answer in a strangely polite tone. Saitou bitterly laughed to himself, knowing that it was most likely only the presence of the other two with the broom-headed man that he behaved himself. “I have some news and some people that Lieutenant Fujita needs to hear and talk to.”

Just as Saitou was about to stroll over to the door to slide it open himself instead of having the former Shichougumi commander do it, for he was most definitely not interested in staying for a shocking reunion, the man beat him to it and slid the door open. He held back an irritated sigh as shock appeared on the former commander's face just as he heard him whisper, “Souji?!”

That whisper and the fact that Okita Rintarou was backing up a few steps in fear and shock also got the attention of the man's wife, who hurried over, only to peer out and utter a squeak of surprise before raising her hand to her open mouth. Saitou let it sink in for a few more minutes before he decided that it was enough and strolled over towards those at the entrance. Beyond the entrance, he saw his personal spy, along with Himura Battousai, and Okita Souji, with the latter two looking quite worried at the husband and wife who were still in shock. Just before he could step out to conduct whatever business his personal spy needed him to hear from Battousai and Okita, the woman managed to recover a little from her shock and said, “Please, please, come in.”

Saitou stepped back and while he saw the broom-headed man and Battousai gingerly enter the courtyard, he saw Okita remain at the entrance, before bowing deeply and heard him say, “I am very sorry for deceiving both of you, Mitsu-neesan and Rintarou-niisan. I hope that once you hear me out, that you may find it in your hearts to forgive me.”

Okita's sister remained silent, but just as Okita started to lift himself up from the bow, she rushed towards him and fiercely embraced him. No words were exchanged between the two as she tried to dry her tears, and instead, Saitou focused his attention on the broom-headed man and Battousai, asking in a low tone, “Why are you here, Battousai?”

“Yamagata-san requested our help with the missing children cases,” Battousai explained. “Yahiko, along with Yuki are missing, taken by bandits. We encountered bandits and their two leaders. One of them is someone that we suspect is Okita's niece and we hoped to seek answers from them. Those at the main station were kind enough to let us know that her parents are currently living in Fukushima, though none of us had not known of the connection between the Takayama family and Okita family until just now.”

“I just happened to run into them at the station,” the broom-headed man stated. “Figured you'd be curious and I got news about that bandit.” Saitou looked at him expectantly for a few long moments, before the man realized that he was supposed to present his findings and said, “The bastard's dead.”

“Dead,” he stated. “How?”

“Skewered through the heart with an ink brush of all things. Didn't even know those things were pointy enough to kill. Oh, and that tattoo, it's missing. Gone. Skinned off.”

At the rate things were going, Saitou was certain there would be a permanent frown etched into his face by the day's end. He didn't get to answer for the Okita family approached, looking a bit more composed as he heard the former Shinchougumi commander stated, “I apologize for intruding, but it seems that we may have more information concerning your investigation, Saitou-san.”

“Don't tell me,” he sarcastically said, irritated. “They're both linked.”

“It seems that they are,” Okita stated. “It appears that my niece, Midori, attacked Himura-san and I while we were trying to prevent another kidnapping from happening in Tokyo, using Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. My nephew, Kiyoshi, attacked Rintarou-niisan here and the young man helping him during yet another kidnapping. A man similar in features to Himura-san's master, Hiko Seijuurou stopped Midori, but the woman with Kiyoshi...”

“Is also a practitioner of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu,” a youthful, familiar voice said from the walkway that encompassed the modest house. Saitou was not the only one to give a start for the presence of the person was different enough that he had not expected it. Turning with the others to face the young man who had stated that revelation, he suppressed a grim smile; it was only a matter of time before their paths would cross again, and despite being surprised, that surprise was short-lived.

“Ha!” he heard the broom-haired man bark in ironic laughter. “So this is what you've been doing after leaving Shishio, kid.”

“I will submit myself to arrest, Saitou-san, for all the crimes that I have committed while serving Shishio-san and the Juppongatana, but _only_ after all of those who serve the Chrysanthemum Guard are dealt with,” the young man stated.

“Are you...?” Okita immediately asked, but trailed off as Saitou saw realization pass through his comrade's expression. He was sure that Okita had found out what had happened in Kyoto last year through either listening to whatever was told to him by the Oniwabanshuu or those at the Aoiya when Okita and the good doctor Yamazaki had traveled down to the city upon hearing what had happened. Okita's wife would have never told him, for she was as discreetly quiet with incident reports and details as he, Saitou, was.

“He's the only Juppongatana member that was never captured during Shishio Makoto's rampage,” Saitou heard the Battousai quietly answer in confirmation. “He was Shishio's right hand, Seta Soujirou.”

 

~*~*~*~

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

_Tokyo..._

 

Tetsu's hands shook slightly as he reread the letter again in a slow and careful manner. The words sounded like his brother, but the tone was not something he had expected – the letter was practically drowning in hope. He didn't know how long he stared at his brother's signature on the letter but it was Susumu's hand clamping down on his shoulders, shaking him out of his reverie that finally snapped him out of his thoughts.

“What?” he asked, looking up and realizing that there was a very acute burning smell lingering in the air.

“You all right?” his friend asked. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Yeah,” he distractedly said, realizing that the others in the clinic were staring at him as he slid his eyes over to where he had been tending to mixtures over the hearth. Said mixtures were blackened and looked rock solid.

Aoshi had confirmed for them a day ago that there was indeed, a new, extremely addictive opium being sold, but could not get a sample even through his black market contacts within Tokyo. Whoever was distributing it was quite secretive and Aoshi could not press further without drawing undue attention to their investigation. Both Susumu and Aoshi had presented the evidence to the police and surprisingly, the police were in an agreeable mood. In order to try to counteract the new opium, Susumu, Aoshi, Dr. Takani, and Reika had been breaking down the compounds that went into creating opium. They were trying to find the chemical composition of the new mixture using what little base mixture that could be found within the two men who had screamed about Sakamoto Ryouma and committed suicide.

While all of them were wearing face masks to prevent themselves from inhaling the various unmixed and mixed ingredients as they were being chopped, cooked, and cooled, it was during the middle of their experiment that he, Tetsu, had wandered into the clinic. He had intended to leave for Kyoto the next day, seeing that there was nothing else that he could do to help his friends – they were all busy. Susumu had asked him to help with the easiest of the jobs – to tend to the fire that was to cook the mixtures. Somewhere in the middle of that, a postman had brought him a letter that was marked urgent from Kyoto. He had become so engrossed in reading the letter that the mixtures that he had been tending to with a small fire in the hearth of the clinic became completely burnt and useless.

Self-conscious and apologetic, for he knew that he had ruined at least a day if not more of his friends' work, he held forward the letter. “Tatsu-nii wrote to me, but it doesn't read like his usual letters.”

Susumu took the letter and quickly read through it. There was a frown on his friend's face, but Tetsu wasn't sure if it happened because of the useless mixtures or because of the letter. However, before he could say anything else, his friend said, “This looks like a derivative of sorts of coded messages that Oniwabanshuu use... how?”

“Wait what?!” he said, snatching the letter back out of his friend's hands as he glanced over at the letter again. “How does it work?”

“You take this,” he heard his friend say with a finger pointed at the first character after the introduction, “and then add its sum previous to get the next one and so on. It's mathematically complex because it requires writing certain characters within the message to disguise it. I've never written such a message before, but I have seen one once before, written by our _Okashira_ prior to Aoshi becoming our leader. The question is, how on earth did your brother know to do such a thing?”

“H-E-L-P,” he slowly pronounced, a slow pit of dread opening up in his stomach as he took Susumu's guidance with the letter and slowly decoded it. “C-A-P-T-U-R-E-D. D-O. N-O-T. C-O-M-E. T-E-L-L. Y-A-M-A-G-A-T-A. What?”

“Yamagata Aritomo?” Reika spoke up. “What would your brother have to do with him?”

Tetsu looked at those in the clinic, quite baffled, and even though the message was unclear, two words within were clear – his brother had been captured by someone and either he was hoping that this strange message got to him, or something else. However, before he could voice his confusion, he saw Aoshi get up from where he had been sitting, whittling away at the small reed pipes that were to have held the cooked opium until they were sufficiently cooled into a sticky paste. “Yamagata already knows about your brother and his wife's abduction,” the former _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu quietly said. “He's already dispatched an agent to look for and rescue them.”

He stared at Aoshi in disbelief before that was swiftly quashed with a surge of white-hot anger. “You already knew!” he accused him, incensed. “Why the hell didn't you tell me?! How long has my brother and his wife been missing?! Who the hell abducted them?!”

Aoshi's silence served to anger Tetsu even further as he growled, “Where did they take them?”

~~~

Susumu never thought that he could ever feel chills crawling down his spine due to whatever Tetsu said. From the time his friend had joined the Shinsengumi until now, he had known him to be occasionally carefree and happy, though recent events painted him in a more sober and somber light. He had seen Tetsu get angry, but it was a hot-headed kind of anger that exploded and was quickly snuffed out with the right application of justice or force meted out by either him or someone else against the offender. This... this chilling kind of demeanor that his friend suddenly showed – this was downright eerie, for it reminded him greatly of that one time he had encountered the Hitokiri Battousai from afar and watched the assassin fight against two Shinsengumi captains.

Though Tetsu and Himura Kenshin both recently discovered their familial connection to each other, he was sure that this sort of behavior was not a result of cold blooded killing, training, or lack thereof. Both men were downright frightening when it came to their families being threatened, and Susumu hoped that Aoshi was not going to continue to stay silent in the wake of his revelation. Kyoto's spymaster or not, he knew that though Aoshi had sought to assuage their mutual friend's concerns, it had instead, opened up something far worse.

“An agent has already been dispatched,” he heard Aoshi repeat. “North is where your brother and his wife were last seen. I don't know anything else.”

Tetsu moved faster than Susumu expected, but even in retirement as a shinobi, he was still faster than his friend and managed to snag a sleeve, halting his friend from leaving the clinic. “Let me go,” he heard Tetsu angrily say. “After all that they have done, I don't trust the government or their people to bring my brother back! Let me go, Susumu. I'm going to find him on my own!”

“You stubborn ass,” he said, forcibly yanking his friend back. “Let the government do their job. Your brother obviously has important ties to them, enough for them to send one of Yamagata's agents!” He looked up at Aoshi, asking, “It isn't Saitou, is it?”

He saw the former _Okashira_ shake his head slightly, indicating that even he did not know who the agent was. He suspected that it could have been Saitou, considering that Reika had told him that the man had dispatched both her and the Oniwabanshuu's current _Okashira_ , Machimaki Misao, to Otsu to protect Tatsunosuke and his wife during the summer. Saitou wasn't currently in Tokyo, having been sent to parts unknown, but with all the chaos from the two abductions of children, Himura and Okita's fight against a practitioner of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, and the storm that had flooded and wrecked parts of the city, Susumu wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Added to the mess was this opium issue that helped facilitate the triggering of the abductions.

“What, so I'm supposed to go back down to Kyoto, knowing that my brother is missing?!” Tetsu shouted. “There's no way that I'm going to do that! I don't care who the government sends--”

“There may be a way to expedite the search, since Yamagata could only spare one agent to cover all of the northern parts of Japan,” Aoshi interrupted, placing his tools and the whittled reeds down and reached into his long-coat's inner pocket. Withdrawing a folded piece of paper, Aoshi then extended it forward towards Tetsu, saying, “These are smuggling contacts in Sendai and Aomori that I had from my days in working as an enforcer for Takeda Kanryuu. I was about to leave in a couple of days to continue to investigate the opium situation, but you might find these contacts more useful in your search for your brother, Tetsunosuke.”

“Is that an order or a request, Aoshi?” Susumu jumped in before Tetsu could say a word after he took the piece of folded paper. It was not because of the direct words that his former _Okashira_ had spoken to Tetsu that he questioned, but the underlying meaning behind those words.

“Request,” Aoshi stated, focusing his eyes on him, ignoring the momentarily confused look that Tetsu had thrown both of them. “You're not of the Oniwabanshuu anymore and neither am I. Takeda's contacts would have heard by now of those who survived and would have assumed the worst. I will, however, send a hawk ahead of your arrival in Sendai. There is a certain someone currently living there who may be able to help in both of your investigation into the opium and into finding Ichimura Tatsunosuke. I'll remain here to pass on any news that I hear.”

Susumu grimly smiled, nodding in acceptance to Aoshi's proposal to further the investigation. There was also the unspoken words that though Takani Megumi had been cleared and pardoned of all charges against her in her complicity with Takeda's opium business, the police were currently scrutinizing all of her actions in this investigation. Aoshi's influence as Kyoto's spymaster was the only thing keeping her safe and not in a cell, despite the fact that she was helping as much as she could.

“T-thank you, Aoshi,” Tetsu hesitatingly spoke up, looking remorseful and ashamed. “And thank you, Susumu. Sorry that I was like that...”

Despite the lack of height difference, Susumu let go of his friend's sleeve and ruffled Tetsu's hair, saying, “Nah. It's already forgiven. Just go book us passage on the fastest ship to Sendai. I've got things to pack up and do before we leave.”

“Yeah, will do!” his friend answered with enthusiasm, looking quite hopeful. “Hey, Aoshi, can you also get a message down to my wife and let her know what's happening. I promised to leave for Kyoto tomorrow, but...”

“I will.”

* * *

_Fukushima..._

 

“Please forgive the interruption, but considering what had happened, it is best if I explain it to all of you, now that you're all unfortunately involved,” the young man stated, though Kenshin could see that there was a thick layer of bandages wrapped around his body underneath the shabby, patchy blue uwagi and hakama that he wore.

Though his movements in stepping down from the walkway were fluid, as if his injuries that he had sustained were not bothering him, Kenshin could see an underlying current of uncertainty, of doubt, and of surprise. Considering just how fast the young man had been during both times he had fought against him, he was quite sure that this was the first time Seta Soujirou had been physically injured after he, Kenshin, had struck him with the final technique last year. The ex-Juppongatana was certainly trying to hide that fact.

“The man with Okita Midori is Seta Daisuke,” Seta continued, approaching them, but stopping short of fully enclosing himself within the small gathering, “and the woman whom we fought against is either Seta Hikari or her twin sister, Sachiko. All of them are practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. Daisuke-san, Hikari-san, and Sachiko-san learned it from the 12th Master of the form and taught it to their apprentices. Their brother is the 13th Master, Hiko Seijuurou.”

There seemed to be a rushing sound of water that filled his ears as Kenshin felt his breath hitch for a moment. His master... he knew next to nothing about his master other than the fact that he was a harsh taskmaster when training him and that he had killed many people prior to becoming a recluse in the mountains. He didn't even know that his master had family...and suddenly it made sense to him as to why his master had tried to pass on the mantle and the name of Hiko Seijuurou last year. It was an inherited name of sorts, but that did not explain why his master wanted to pass it on. If his master's true surname was the same as the brother and sisters mentioned, then...

Kenshin blinked as he mentally shook himself out of his brief reverie, hearing Okita ask in a polite but dangerously cautious tone, “What is your connection to the Seta family, Seta-san?”

He saw that not only were Okita and the two whom the swordsman had addressed as elder sister and brother-in-law looking at the young man with wolfish gazes, Okita's left hand had strayed down to his scabbard. Flicking a quick glance over to Saitou before reverting back to Soujirou, Kenshin saw that the policeman had also adopted a guarded stance. Soujirou was quite easy to read at the moment, with his intent being only that of peace, but he was no fool to assume that the young man may have retained his incredible sword skills and speed. Mental breakdowns such as the one that Kenshin at witnessed Soujirou endure usually rendered a swordsman useless, but the fact that the young man and Okita's brother-in-law survived fighting against others who wielded Hiten Mitsurugi was a testament that he healed from the breakdown.

“My mother, who took me in last year is Seta Yuna, the leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards. She does not practice swordsmanship. After learning about her, the organization, and what they have done and will do, I left. Elements of their nature and plans reminded me too much of Shishio-sama's plans and of what they had done to achieve some of those plans. That was about five months ago.”

“So what, you've been wandering around the country like this idiot here--” Saitou began, jerking a thumb at Kenshin's direction, to which Kenshin merely sighed in exasperation, “--and _helping_ people?”

“To a certain degree,” Soujirou answered, tilting his head slightly, offering up a brief watery smile that disappeared a moment later. “As I said before, Saitou-san, I will submit myself to arrest for the crimes that I've committed, but only after I finish dealing with those of the Chrysanthemum Guards.”

“And what is that?” Saitou asked in an impatient tone.

“To kill all of them,” the young man answered, looking quite grim and withdrawn before focusing his eyes on Kenshin. “I apologize, Himura-san, but it is not my story to tell. I am merely finishing what the 13th Master started many years ago.”

This time, Kenshin was better prepared for the thoughts that ran through his mind, but it still stunned him to hear it from another's perspective. He had never given much thought to his master's words about his life prior to him, Kenshin, arriving, but now that he heard about it again, it greatly saddened and stung him. His master had always been right – about the fact that their style was one to kill and to murder on a massive scale. He had made it his mission in this new era to protect those with his sakabatou and the style, but its origins were always bloody, and from what he inferred with Soujirou's words, that history was much bloodier than he had thought it had been.

“You had that opportunity, _boy_ ,” Saitou interrupted before Kenshin could take a step forward and acknowledge the unstated request to not press for details. “Yet it seems that those two practitioners escaped.”

“You of all people should know how destructive Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu is, when faced with it in a confined setting Saitou-san,” Soujirou answered, though Kenshin thought he heard a tinge of sarcasm within the young man's tone that told him that perhaps that the Soujirou he knew was not completely gone. In a more serious tone, the young man continued to say, “Because of what happened last year, I can only fight at maximum, three steps below _shukuchi_. I was also injured by Daisuke-san and his apprentice while Machimaki-san, Mishima-kun, and I were freeing another set of abducted children that included Myoujin-kun. You're looking for Myoujin-kun and Mishima-kun, aren't you?”

“We have been searching for Myoujin-kun, Mishima-kun whom we know as Fujita-kun, and my son, Shirou Yukimura,” Okita said. “It seems that Myoujin-kun and the others helped you in your task. Have you encountered a boy around the same age as Myoujin-kun? He was abducted near the same place and time as Myoujin-kun.”

“I have,” Soujirou answered. “He, along with the others, insisted on assisting in this task of mine. I sincerely apologize for getting them involved.”

“Where did...where are the bandits headed, Seta-dono?” Kenshin asked.

“North,” Soujirou stated. “Machimaki-san and the others are on horseback. I believe that the bandits and the others intend to get to Sendai and take the fastest ship to Hakodate. It is where the Guards have made their stronghold.”

“The Imperial Army has control of Hakodate,” Saitou said, as Kenshin saw him take a cigarette out of the pack he had, light it up, and puff on it for a few moments.

“They never did,” Soujirou said. “The Guards are insidious in nature and they have people placed all over the country in positions not of power, but of ordinary citizens. They seek to control those ruling the country through popular opinion, sometimes by creating crises, such as the revolution. Other times, they seed agents within cities in a similar manner to shinobi groups, but control the information that goes to such spy groups. To ensure that this goes on for many generations, they kidnap children, using previously seeded agents to create chaos and the like to abduct more children before returning them to the populace.”

“Those suicides after reading the Sakamoto Ryouma stories?” Kenshin whispered more to himself than to anyone else as he caught Okita's concerned look towards him. “The opium investigation that Yamazaki-sensei is undertaking...?”

“Were our children... our Midori and Kiyoshi,” Okita's sister started, looking quite dismayed, “they too went missing just after we fled Edo and settled here... Were they turned as so, Seta-san?”

Kenshin saw the young man shake his head, saying, “I don't know, and I'm sorry. I did not spend much time getting to know your daughter and son. I do thank you for your hospitality, and will try to free them from the influence of the Guards.”

“We both will,” Okita immediately stated as soon as the young man fell silent. “It is the least I can do for having stayed away for so long.”

Kenshin caught the former Shinsengumi captain's glance towards both him and Saitou and while he nodded, willing to support the two in the endeavor, the only sign that Saitou gave of his own acknowledgment in this combining of their investigations was to sigh, drop his cigarette to the ground and squash it out with his feet.

“Man, if I haven't been seeing all sorts of strange stuff in your investigations, Saitou, since last autumn, this is the weirdest one that you're involved in,” Chou quipped.

“Aho,” Saitou snorted before ordering the ex-Juppongatana, saying, “Bring a message down to Yamagata about what we know of the Chrysanthemum Guards. Leave the source--” he flicked an inscrutable look over towards Soujirou before focusing his attention back on Chou, “--out of the report. Meet us up north when you're done.”

“Heh,” the ex-Juppongatana snorted, “as the Miburo commands.”

Just as the broom-haired man swept out of the courtyard, Soujirou spoke up again, saying, “I hope that Myoujin-kun and the others have already stopped the bandits, but I cannot depend on that. If you are willing to follow me, I will show you a short cut through Zaousan to get to Sendai.”

* * *

_Hakodate..._

 

“Welcome Ichimura-san,” the woman said as soon as Tatsu stepped into rather elegant but austere looking room. While the partitions that enclosed the room were painted with light brush art of cranes and the like, and the tatami mats on the floor impeccably clean, the only furniture in the room, apart from the lanterns that gave the area a warm glow, was a squat, long table and two seat cushions on either side of the table. Two guards that protected Seta Yuna were standing at the far corners of the room, and the woman herself was seated behind the table, extending a hand out for him to approach.

There was a rather thick, bound notebook sitting at the center of the table that was unusually long in width but normal in length, which meant that at least two sheets of paper had been glued for one long sheet. However, there was nothing on the front of the notebook to indicate any title of sorts or what sort of document this was. Sitting to the side of the notebook was a brush and ink block that was already watered and rubbed with ink.

“Please have a seat,” Seta insisted again.

“Where's my wife?” he asked, refusing to take another step into the room as the partition behind him slid close.

It had been a few days since both he and his wife had been moved from the dank fishing house to the chilly and damp stone fortress. They had been allowed to see where they were going but were still bound as Seta and her people moved them. Considering that he had never been up in this part of the country before, the star fort of Hakodate was known to him by reputation. This was where those of the Ezo Republic had made their last stand, and despite himself, he felt a great sense of sadness at the fact that Hijikata never survived to see the new era. Knowing what he knew of the Shinsengumi vice-commander, he knew that the man wouldn't have tolerated the new era for long either.

And now, it was home to the mysterious Chrysanthemum Guards, and despite he and his wife being allow to talk and see freely, their captors had not provided much details of who or what they were. His wife had told him as much as she knew, and with what he knew from translating the lockbox documents during the revolution, the Guards were such a secretive force to be reckoned with that he was sure they had probably had some influence during the revolution. But that lockbox and its contents were safe, and though they had not been tortured, Tatsu was not looking forward to the start of that – they wanted the lockbox, and with the absence of his wife only a couple of days ago in the room that she slept in next to his, he feared the worst.

He saw the woman press her lips together, as if carefully considering her words before saying, “She is missing... most likely escaped.”

He gaped at her for a very long moment before turning to open the partition behind him. However, his hands never made it to the partition, as he heard the sounds of rifles being set to the ready position. The sound had not come from behind him, but rather in front of him – through the partition. Torn between wanting to immediately leave and not wanting to get shot by whomever was out there, he hesitated for a few more long moments before accepting defeat and turned back towards his captor.

Slowly walking back towards the table, he quietly took a seat before her and folded his hands together, resting them lightly on the table. “I hope your people never find her,” he bitterly said.

“Someone within this fortress broke her out,” Seta answered. “For both yours and your wife's sake, you may want to pray to the gods that my people do not find that person or persons. He, she, or they do not have the immunity that you and your wife possess.” She shook her head slightly. “No, your wife's escape is a boon to us. Since both you and her remain uncooperative with regards to the location of the lockbox, she will, perhaps, lead my people to that location.”

“She won't,” he answered with confidence, though there was something in the woman's tone that cause him to feel uneasy.

“We need your help, Ichimura-san, specifically you, but your wife's help would be welcomed as well,” Seta said after a moment.

“Help?!” he asked, baffled. “Who are you to abduct us and expect us to _help_?!”

“I admit, it wasn't the most pleasant of things that I would rather do,” she said, giving him a brief smile, “but with the government watching both of you so closely, it was a risk that we had to take. You see, not only do we want your silence in the matter with regards to the lockbox and its contents, we also need those deciphering skills that you seemed to have inherited from your grandfather.”

“You lie,” he growled, even though he never knew his grandfather and his father had never talked about him at all except to mention that the Ichimura family had originally lived in the northern regions of the country before the cold got to be too much and the rest of the family moved down to somewhere warmer. “I know what your organization did...tried to do! You were going to assassinate the emperor and shogun! No one would do that unless they planned to replace them with puppets of their own! I'll never help you!”

Seta didn't even seemed disturbed by his outburst and merely folded her own hands together, mirroring his actions as she calmly said, “That is the past, this is the now. With what happened over the summer to many cities, Japan is weak, and ripe for any sort of invasion, be it foreign or domestic. Powers outside of the country have heard of the summer's incidents, and they are starting to threaten our sovereignty. The Meiji Emperor is blind to all of this, surrounded by advisers who do nothing but grab power for their own usage. The Genrou is an example of this, and they must be stopped if we are to have any fighting chance of surviving with our sovereignty intact. China has already fallen to the influences of the west with opium as their salve, and we are slipping as well. The Russian Empire has long established a small trading outpost in Hokkaido, and thanks to our people within the Joseon Kingdom, we know that they are beginning to cast their militaristic eyes upon us.”

“Then why not just tell the Emperor himself! Surely there are more avenues to the Emperor's ear than through the Genrou!” he said, exasperated.

“We would have, had that order enclosed within the lockbox you keep from us been successful,” she pointed out. “My brother, the 13th Master saw to the failure of that task. The Chrysanthemum Guards was never supposed to be exposed to the light as we are now. We were supposed to be the shadows, the guiding hand to ensure that our country and our people are always protected. The Bakumatsu was never supposed to have escalated to the way it did, and we lost control. We are now resorted to gathering as many people as we can to defend our borders because of selfish men and their ambitions.”

“How can I even believe what you're saying,” he asked. “What proof do you have?”

Seta raised her chin slightly before unfolding her hands and gestured to the bound notebook in front of him. “Though I lack the skills that you possess, I managed to decode a few lines from the first page. This was intercepted by one of the Guards working within the Joseon Court. At great personal sacrifice, she sent it to us through the opium smugglers that make their port between Fusan and Akita.” Tatsu gingerly opened the notebook to see that the first page was covered in Chinese characters that read like a complete mess.

“It...” he began but trailed off, seeing that a few columns had been rewritten in a smaller brush in Japanese. His eyes widened at what was written before he immediately flipped through a few other pages. There were characters that looked completely foreign to him, written from left to right, instead of top to down. Those characters were followed by more Chinese characters. “I can't read half of this...” he said, looking back up.

“We suspect it is written in the language that the Russians use. I heard that your brother was able to fluently read it and speak in a limited manner during the Boshin War. He apparently used it to help those of the Ezo Republic engage in trade with the Russian trading post.”

“ _Do not_ involve him,” he warned, flipping back to the first page.

“Of course, Ichimura-san,” Seta genially answered. “Why do you think that message you left with your wife was sent to him? We don't want him to worry over you while you help us.”

It was with great reluctance that he picked up the brush and daubed it in the ink. With his hand holding the brush hovering over the ink block, he stared at the page before him before looking back up. “I'll help, but only because of what this notebook represents. After this 'translation' is done, I want you to promise me something.”

“What may that be, Ichimura-san?”

“Whatever comes of this; war, invasion, whatever it is... you leave my wife, my brother, and his family out of it. Send us to America if you have to, but we are not going to further involve ourselves in this. Send us somewhere where we can live out our lives in peace, and I will tell you where the lockbox is.”

“As the English and American's put it,” Seta said, smiling, “ _It will be a pleasure doing business with you_.”

* * *

_In the forests, north of Fukushima..._

 

“I never told them about the final technique, Himura-san.”

Kenshin blinked as he tore his gaze from staring up at the stars that shone through the patchy clouds. It was an extremely chilly night, and even the blanket that covered him didn't provide as warmth as he hoped. The sounds of nighttime insects and of the crackling and popping fire that all of them slept next to filled the silence that followed Soujirou's quiet words. Their ride up towards Zaousan was harsh, but tomorrow, they would cross the mountain pass shortcut. He hoped that with the days they would shave off the journey, they would be able to intercept the bandits who had openly attacked Fukushima, along with Yahiko and the others before they could get to Sendai.

He shifted slightly on the thin bed roll that separated him from the leaf-covered, hard, knobby ground. It felt like a lifetime ago that he remembered sleeping in such conditions while he wandered the country at the end of the war, but it had only been less than two years ago that he finally decided to stop his wanderings. The soft cough coming from the other side of the campfire, along with the slight shift on the ground that he heard over the sounds of the snorting horses and crackling fire told him that Okita was also not asleep. None of them were despite having settled down only an hour ago. Saitou was most likely sitting against a tree near the horses, keeping watch, and though Kenshin, Okita, and Soujirou were lying around the campfire, tension hung quite thick in the air between all of them. No more thicker than Saitou's wariness with regards to Soujirou. He had also seen Okita also adopt a cautious demeanor with regards to the young man, heightening that tension.

“Thank you,” he quietly answered, deciding not to press the young man for details, for he was still trying to work through the shock and surprise of his master being involved with such a group, and the fact that there were more practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi than he realized. He craved some knowledge, some explanation as to why his master had never told him, but it was as Soujirou had stated: that story was not his to tell, and when Kenshin returned to Tokyo, he would have to at least write a letter to his master.

“Daisuke-san declared himself the 14th Master many years ago,” Soujirou said. “But that is only in name. He doesn't know the final technique, but he is still formidable in strength, size, and speed. My mother...she had me study with him in the brief time I was there, not to learn Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, but to find all counter techniques against each technique. He's the only one out of those five practitioners within the Guards who can perform true _shukuchi_ without having to increase it step by step.”

“He looks similar to Hiko Seijuurou, doesn't he?” he asked, a grim sort of dread bubbling up in his stomach.

“Yes,” the young man answered. “Machimaki-san was looking for a man like him, but I didn't ask her if she was looking for your master or for Daisuke-san.”

“Do you...” he began, but hesitated, for it pained him to ask, but he needed to know why his master's brother had not killed both him and Okita back in Tokyo. “Okita-dono and this one encountered him and Okita Midori in Tokyo, but we were spared by him. He stated that 'killing me and Okita-dono would bring upon the wrath of the 13th Master'. Do you know why?”

Silence answered his question and it stretched so far and long that Kenshin thought the young man had finally gone to sleep. However, he heard a faint whisper over the crackling of the fire, saying, “Yes. My mother negotiated a treaty with Hiko-sensei to stop the bloodshed.”

Kenshin turned to the side so that he was staring at the fire, his thoughts in a swirl of sadness, worry, and shock. It went without saying that his current involvement may have or already had negated whatever agreement his master had with this mysterious group. It pained him to see just how much his master had guarded him against the world, and he had thrown that into his master's face by going down the mountain and joining the Ishinshishi. Would his master know of his involvement with the kidnapped children? He mentally shook his head as he continued to stare at the flames. His master may be a recluse, but even he knew things that happened down below the mountain that had always surprised him. Would his master return to becoming the mass-murderer he had been before he, Kenshin, had stepped into his life?

“After we rescue Yahiko and the others, this one will not further involve myself with this task of yours, Seta-dono,” he stated. “This one will not have the blood of so many on my own hands again just because of something that my master and your mother negotiated.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, the First Sino-Japanese War/Japan-Qing War/War of Jiawu (1894-1895), and the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905)... yes this story is headed towards those two devastating wars that set the Korean peninsula and Manchuria on fire. No, I will not pull punches on any of the nations involved when it comes to this part of history.
> 
> Also, in re-watching parts of RK (mainly the two awesome fights between Kenshin and Soujirou), I noticed that the kid tends to motormouth... even after having a mental breakdown. Also, its “fun” writing Okita and Soujirou's name in the same sentence... *grumbles about the two, one of whom was based off the other in RK lore*


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Year: Past, March 1868_

 

_Between the Boshin War Part 1 and Boshin War Part 2 storylines from Echoes..._

 

Tatsu's lungs burned from the thick smoke that covered the air as he joined the stream of people trying to flee the burning towns of Koshuu and Katsuunuma. The shouts of those fighting, along with the terrible buzzing sounds of Gatling guns, rifles, and cannons screamed through the air. Flecks of heated wood and tile scattered across their heads as the cannon fire tore through houses, causing more than a few civilians to stumble as they were pelted by it. There were a few Shinsengumi among the mass of ordinary people who had lived in the town also running with them, but they were not escaping – they were trying to get to the other side of the swollen river.

Though he was Shinsengumi, he held neither a sword or wore the bright blue overcoats with white mountain edgings. He did, however, have a revolver that he had received as a gift from Sakamoto the last time he had seen the man. He had carefully hidden it within the general sleeping room when the Shinsengumi had been patrolling in Fushimi and had taken it with him as soon as orders had come in for the group to join forces with others of the Shogun's 'representatives to Kyoto'.

He had been near the back of the combined forces during Toba-Fushimi, trying to help evacuate civilians so that they did not get caught in the fight that was about to happen. When the order to retreat was finally given, he had been among those who first fled, making his way into the dense forests that surrounded the sleepy little town, trying to find a hide or hair of the Shinsengumi. Fortunately, their bright blue overcoats were easy to spot, even in such chaos, but he had ended up following Kondou, Nagakura, Harada, and the others of the 2nd, 4th, and 10th units. None of them knew where the rest of the captains were, or if their vice-commander had survived in the three days that it took for them to escape Toba-Fushimi.

But he had not been thinking about the others – all of this thoughts were focused on his brother; for the last time he had seen Tetsu was next to him, he was also helping evacuate civilians. In the chaos, he had tried to stop his brother from going into the fray to seek out the vice-commander, but Tetsu had been much faster than he thought possible. Now, he didn't even know if his brother had survived, and even as his lungs felt like they were on fire with the inhalation of acrid smoke, he knew that he couldn't do this anymore – could not keep running.

It didn't matter if they were close to making their way to Edo, or if they were being hounded from behind by the rebels carrying the Emperor's banner – he could not stay, did not want to stay any longer. Between what what little sleep he got each night on the run and the constant state of fear and anger that permeated what was left of their group, the Shogunate forces were not going to win this fight. There was no reason for him to stay and fight for a cause he had never believed in.

With his feet pounding across the bridge, he risked a glance back to see that several blue overcoated members of the Shinsengumi, or what was left after they had ran into Saitou and those remaining of the 3rd, 5th, and 6th units, still on the other side of the bridge. Among those remaining was Kondou, and the commander was still pushing civilians towards the bridge, while trying to hold off the advancement of the Choshuu-Satsuma forces.

Tatsu managed to extract himself from the frightened crowd as he saw several members of the Shinsengumi already on the other side, waiting and urging civilians to continue onward. The two shinobi that managed to survive the horrific ordeal thus far, Matsumoto Aya and Shimada Kai, were crouched behind a hastily erected barrier of sorts that was composed of several turned over wagons. His eyes followed what the big shinobi, Shimada, was holding, and it was a line that ran all the way to the bridge.

They had rigged the bridge to explode, and with the breeze briefly clearing the smoke that covered the area for a moment, he saw several barrels of gunpowder attached to the underside of the bridge. The two shinobi were waiting for the signal, and half-crouched behind them was Saitou, who had cast his keen gaze over towards where the fighting was fiercest across the bridge. Within that area was their commander, cutting down rebels left and right, his sword covered in a thick coat of gleaming red blood, that seemed to hypnotize the eyes whenever it flashed against the sunlight.

“Kondou- _kyoukuchou_ is not going to fall back, Saitou- _kumichou_ ,” Tatsu heard Matsumoto curtly say. “Do you want me to try to reach him?”

“Smoke's blowing away, sir,” Shimada spoke up. “We're about to lose the advantage we have.”

Tatsu saw a grim line form on the Third Unit Captain's lips before he caught the captain's glance towards him, hearing the man say, “Get back and keep going, Ichimura.”

Wisely, he obeyed that order and as he backpedaled, hurrying away, it was only after he reached the crest of the muddy hill did an enormous explosion rip through the air, sending trees and the ground shaking. He fell to his knees as he looked back to see what was left of the bridge across the swollen river fly up in greedy flames and in pieces of wood. Burnt bodies, limbs, and chunks of what was left of the civilians who had been on the bridge just as it exploded also flew into the air, splashing down into the river and all around the area with wet, bloody thumps.

On the far side of the river, those who had been fighting fell to the ground, shaken by the explosion, and for a moment, there was silence in the air as both sides stopped firing their weapons and swinging their swords at each other. Tatsu could only stare at the horror before him, of the massive amount of splattered blood, missing limbs – children and adults alike blown apart or killed by shrapnel. He collapsed onto his knees, feeling oddly weak and overwhelmed by the utter devastation that was laid out before his eyes.

“I... I can't do this,” he found himself whispering as his hands clutched his head and face of their own accord. “I can't do this anymore... I can't... I can't do this...”

He screamed; an animalistic cry of rage and despair, piercing the heavens above.

 

_Shortly after the end of the Battle of Koshuu-Katsuunuma, Ichimura Tatsunosuke left the Shinsengumi of his own volition and headed towards the west coast, intent on trying to get away from the carnage. Little did he know that in leaving the notorious group, he also left the only thing he had for protection from the Chrysanthemum Guards._

* * *

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

_Hakodate..._

 

While he never liked drinking wheat tea, this particular one was not too bad in terms of taste and texture. Strangely, he had been cautioned by Seta to not drink any of the other teas that they had within the fortress. He had not received an explanation as to why, but considering that the woman had treated him with utter respect and courtesy thus far (apart from the abduction), he heeded her words. Thus, Tatsu drank wheat tea, the only other tea in this place that he had not been cautioned against consuming.

Though the woman had also told him that he was not a captive in this fortress, guards were everywhere and he had been prevented from going outside. He took his meals within his damp, chilly room, but they were fulfilling meals that he could find no fault to complain about. Had those of the Guards wanted to poison him, they had plenty of time and opportunity to do so, but they didn't.

Instead, he had spent the past days since agreeing to decode the notebook full of secrets from the two nations that were posing the greatest threat to the sovereignty of Japan, in the same room, hunched over and carefully making his own notes. Guardsmen remained both inside and outside, but he had not been stopped whenever he had to use the outhouse or needed to stretch and walk around to gather his thoughts.

It was now that he sat within the pristine but austere room, five pages into the thick notebook, his eyes blurring slightly at just how many more Chinese characters he had to read, translate, and decode. There was a method to his madness, but he still had not found a reliable pattern. Each page he had completed so far was encoded in a completely different manner than the previous page. So far, one of the pages required him to do some mathematical calculations in his head to come up with a pattern for that page, but he suspected that the more he went on, the harder those mathematical calculations would become – he would require the use of an abacus soon.

However, it didn't escape his notice at just how intricate and detailed the encoding had been done in, and he thanked his father for pushing him to learn not only the characters that the Japanese language used, but also of the standard Chinese characters that those across the sea memorized. Translating and decoding at the same time – this was far more complex than what he had decoded in the lockbox, and compared to this, the lockbox contents were child's play.

But what he had read so far on each page worried him a lot. It was not that the Chinese and Russians were amassing troops, Russia in particular was already starting to spread word and gather allies from the west in preparation for an invasion. The Chinese, well, though they were under the yolk of their western masters, they were also quelling unrest to their west with what seemed like ethnic groups rebelling. They were also seeking western war advisers of sorts.

He didn't know what else was happening, but the rest of the notebook held the contents, and thus, Tatsu worked long hours and slept fitfully each night. He was tired, but not enough that he needed to go back to his room and collapse out of sheer exhaustion. Fear for his family – his wife, his brother, and his brother's family drove him to continue this, for he did not want to be in the country or anywhere near the region when conflict started. He had enough of seeing people dying left and right, of people needlessly sacrificing themselves for a cause that was not worth fighting for, and of conspiracies taking fruition that stretched to well before he had been born.

The partition behind him suddenly slid open as a gruff voice said, “You are required in the war room, Ichimura-san.”

He turned to look at who had disturbed him, but it was a regular member of the Guards who looked like the guards guarding him. He was tempted to decline the request, but considering the messenger's words stated 'required' and not 'requested', he was sure that something terrible or painful was to happen if he did not comply. He was a prisoner here in this fortress, even if he did have some freedoms afforded to him.

Silently, he placed his brush back down on the side of the ink block, closed the notebook and got up. A tingly feeling ran down his legs, but he quickly walked it off and followed the guard to where the 'war room' was. As soon as he entered, he saw several guards with their rifles pointed at a person who was bound and kneeling on the ground with a sack covering the person's head. There was one guardsman who was kneeling behind the person, seemingly holding on to the area where the person's hands were bound behind – preventing the person from trying to secretly loosen bonds. Standing before the captive was Seta, and there was a clear frown of displeasure on her face, along with anger in her eyes.

The 'war room' looked the same as the room that he had been sequestered in to complete his decoding, except that there were no furniture of sorts within the room, only lanterns that lit the place up. The guard left him near the entrance and as soon as the partition closed behind him, Seta looked up at him, saying in a polite but short tone, “Ichimura-san, please stand next to me.”

Tatsu complied, seeing that he had no other choice and as soon as he stopped next to her, she gestured to the guard that was holding the captive down. The sack was removed from the captive's head, and despite himself, he sucked in a quick breath of surprise. He had not expected this particular person to be here – had not expected that the government would even send someone to rescue, or attempt to, him. Had this person helped his wife escape? Considering what he knew, he was quite sure that Matsumoto Aya had.

“You know this woman,” Seta stated. “Good. Then you should also know that she killed twenty of the Guards before we managed to capture her. We lost twenty good men to this government dog, and considering her skills, I would have to say she is a former shinobi and that Yamagata Aritomo must have sent her. She would not be employed by the government otherwise. Who is she?”

“I thought you would already know,” he dryly said, folding his arms across his chest as the turned slightly to look at the woman. “Did you not tell me that the Guards have their ears in everything?”

His insolence was rewarded by a rather sharp, painful jab from the butt of a rifle into not his back, but into Matsumoto's back. She silently rocked forward, not even making a sound through the gag that was tied around her mouth, but was quickly pulled back up into a sitting position. Her dark eyes glittered with anger as she stared at both of them. Tatsu nearly looked away, ashamed that he had caused another to be hurt because of him. He had not meant to do that, and instead, said, “Let her go, Seta-san. Let her take a message back to whoever she works for--”

“You're intelligent, Ichimura-san, but you're definitely not as smart as you think,” Seta said, interrupting him. “If you will not identify her, then the guards will just have to kill her. Then I will send her rotting corpse back to Yamagata himself as a warning.”

Even before her orders left her lips, Tatsu heard the hammers on the rifles being pulled back. “Stop!” he said, flinging a hand out, even though he knew that that gesture was completely useless in stopping bullets. Matsumoto's gaze snapped straight to him, and he could see through her eyes that she was pleading for him not to reveal her name – she rather die than let the Guards know her name. However, he could not live with himself, or face his brother and his friends, knowing that he had let someone they held dear die when he had the power to save her.

“I'll tell you,” he said, tearing his eyes away from the shinobi's livid gaze. “She's... she's Matsumoto Aya.”

“Ah,” Seta purred, smiling quite amiably, as she stepped away from him and took a step towards Matsumoto. Crouching down so that she was face-to-face with her, Seta said, “An Oniwabanshuu shinobi known in certain circles down south as the Devil of Nagasaki. Such a shame at what happened to your family all those years ago, being killed by the hands of the Fuuma clan, but that was all to continue to weaken the power of the Shogun. I had not expected you to be so resilient and survive the revolution, and commend you on your achievement of obtaining the position of spymaster within Kyoto's Police Force. Had I been informed of your talents earlier, you would have made an excellent asset within the ranks of the Guards. I do wonder how you came to work for Yamagata?”

“I don't know,” Tatsu immediately said, holding up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “Last I knew of her, she was Kyoto's spymaster and tasked to watch over me.”

The woman waved a dismissive hand, but it was not the guards who took him away, but rather forcibly pick Matsumoto up off the floor and dragged her out of the room. As soon as the partition closed again, he asked, “What will you do with her?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Ichimura-san,” Seta answered, standing back up and turning to face him. “Please,” she continued, gesturing towards the partition that Matsumoto had disappeared through a few seconds earlier, “Do continue your work. We have much to prepare for, and so little time to do so.”

“Not until you tell me what you're going to do to her,” he angrily stated, standing his ground while folding his arms over his chest. “If you kill her--”

Seta outright laughed, not a twittering kind that most Japanese women were prone to do, but an genuinely hearty bark of laughter that he had seen a few of the Shinsengumi do. “Kill her? No. I will not. Especially not when Yamagata has presented me with one of his most valuable assets. Every person or group he sends to me to rescue you will be turned towards the threats against this country.”

* * *

 

_Sendai..._

 

“I never thought I'd be back here,” Susumu heard his best friend murmur, though it sounded it was more to himself than anything else. “Everything still looks the same as it did ten years ago.”

He remained silent, letting Tetsu take the lead in their descent from the steamship that had brought them to this port, and could only speculate as to what was going through his friend's mind. Though the port was crowded, it was mostly full of trade ships and the like who anchored here, getting ready to winter and ride out the cold season until it was spring again. Though a few brave ships made the winter journey between Sendai and the many ports that dotted the island of Hokkaido, most stood down, not wanting to risk sailing in the gales.

“Last time, I remember seeing a fairly large fleet of ships docked here, ready to go at a moment's notice,” Tetsu continued to say as Susumu swung the small satchel he carried over his back. “The port was extremely crowded with many of us having just arrived and had little time to catch our breath.”

As both he and Tetsu navigated their way through the crowds carrying all sorts dried materials, planks of wood, and other articles ready for trade or for shipment up and down the coast, he thought he heard the distant whistle of a train. Frowning slightly, for he thought that many of the main train line infrastructure had been destroyed during the summer.

“Hey! Susumu! Tetsu!”

Startled by the boisterous shout, Susumu was not the only one to look ahead as Tetsu stopped mid-sentence and also stare in surprise. Of all the people that Aoshi could have sent his message via hawk to, he had not expected it to be this particular person. He had thought that because that Aoshi had threatened this particular person over ten years ago during their evacuation of Edo, this person would have never acquiesced or given the time of day to even listen to Aoshi again.

“Kai?!” he said, gaping at his friend who looked a little older and greyer in hair color than he remembered. The last time he had seen his friend was just after the Aoiya had been attacked by Shishio's men. Kai and his wife had specifically came up to Osaka to help those at the Aoiya, not to support Aoshi. “It's been a while...”

“It has, hasn't it,” the big former shinobi said, grinning as Susumu was engulfed in a back slapping hug and then let go. Kai did the same to Tetsu, saying, “Man... I remember when you were shorter!”

“Ha!” Tetsu said, grinning as Kai stepped back.

“Kai...” Susumu began, “I thought... how?”

He saw the big man scratch the back of his head for a moment before saying, “Yeah, I suppose that I owe you, Susumu, at least an explanation. Long story short, is that when that incident happened over the summer, Hiroko and I tried to help Osaka's police with their investigation and the defense of the city. We were overwhelmed until reinforcements came. Turns out, Aoshi also sent some of those reinforcements from Kyoto to help clear out the city. Our house was already destroyed, and since we all have bad memories of Kyoto, the only place left to go was back to Sendai. Wife and I just settled here about a month ago. Despite what happened in Edo between Aoshi and I, I was willing to let that be carried away by the fresh waters.”

“Well,” he said, clapping his friend on the arm with his free hand, “It's definitely great to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” Kai said, “Heard you're something of a big name doctor nowadays in Tokyo? Before Hiroko and I left, the police in Kyoto were saying that you created a cure or something to a poison that was affecting children.”

Susumu felt himself flush red in embarrassment and quickly shook his head, saying, “Not a cure. Just a stop-gap measure that they needed to take until an actual cure could be made. That cure was created by Takani-sensei and Matsumoto-sensei.”

“Ah. Still, a stop-gap is nothing to sneeze at, Susumu,” his friend answered before turning to Tetsu saying, “I'm glad to hear that your family's okay after what happened.”

“Thanks,” Tetsu answered.

“Anyways, Aoshi sent me some details on what you guys are trying to find? It seems that you can never get away from the police recruiting you, Susumu,” Kai chortled. “You might as well give up and actually join their medical team.”

Susumu snorted slightly in laughter before saying, “Then I wouldn't get this opportunity to visit, be a tourist, and do work in an unofficial manner.”

The three of them shared a brief moment in laughter, remembering the good times they had many years ago, even though those were also tumultuous times. “So,” Kai said as their laughter died down, “I couldn't find much information about your missing brother, Tetsu, but I got the feeling that someone here in the docks knows about your brother. I also did find some interesting information about that opium thing you're looking for, Susumu. Come on, let's get to my place and we can discuss it and get both of you disguises. You're both going to need to walk among these people at night to find out more.”

Long ago, Susumu would have thought it a bad idea to even consider letting Tetsu go in disguise with regards to anything, for the first and last time his friend had done such a thing was to follow him to Masuya's place on the second day of joining the Shinsengumi. That had nearly been a disaster in itself and had negatively colored his, Susumu's, view greatly of him until they had finally worked past their differences and became friends. Now though, even though he knew that his friend had not fully reconciled with Tatsunosuke, Tatsunosuke was still family to Tetsu. Brothers stuck together no matter what, and even though anyone else would have thought that Tetsu would be the worst person to go into disguise to get information, his friend had been surprisingly determined and level-headed during their trip up to Sendai.

None of the usual outbursts, save for that initial one in Tokyo at his clinic, had emerged from Tetsu during the entire trip, and instead, there was a real look of worry and of regret on Tetsu's face. Susumu had tried to get his friend to open up, but strangely, his friend had resisted all attempts. If his friend was keeping his cool for now, then Susumu would keep a very sharp eye on him during their disguised investigation – he did not need his friend to suddenly run off or blow up at anyone who had a shred of information about Tatsunosuke.

“What do we need to know about these people at the docks?” he asked as they weaved their way through the crowded and noisy streets.

“Well, for one, a lot of them are ship--”

“T-Tetsunosuke-kun?!”

Susumu was not the only one to give a start as a filthy-looking woman with her black hair askew and hanging wildly down, covered in brambles, mud, and leaves, and torn clothing suddenly burst through the crowds and collapsed at Tetsu's feet. She was clutching at Tetsu's yukata, looking quite pitiful as tears streamed down her face. The three of them stopped in the middle of the road, as people around them gave a wide berth, murmuring to each other in concern and in disgust.

“W-who...?” Tetsu asked, as Susumu saw him crouch and try to pry the woman off of him. He too crouched, as he heard and felt Kai step up behind them to try to continue to herd the crowd past them. Upon a closer look at the woman, he saw that she was bleeding from numerous cuts and scrapes that covered her, and that her feet were torn, bloody, and bare.

“Kami-sama, thank you,” the woman gasped, continuing to cry, as he saw Tetsu gently try to wipe her dirty face with the sleeve of his yukata. “T-thank you...”

“H-Hanako?” Tetsu whispered in horror. “What--”

“Your sister-in-law?” he questioned more in shock than in confirmation, just as the woman fainted into Tetsu's arms.

“Come on,” Kai said, as Susumu looked up and saw that there was a deeply concerned look up on his friend's face. “We can't stay here. Something doesn't feel right.”

There was no protest from Tetsu as Kai quickly scooped the unconscious woman up, and just as he and Tetsu rose up, Susumu took a quick look around, his own senses feeling something amiss as well. Quickly casting his eyes around as he pushed Tetsu forward to follow the big man in the wake that he left, he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. A few passersby were gawking at them, but that was the extent of the staring they got. Murmurs continued to float through the air, but despite their ease of their movement through the crowds, Susumu could not shake the feeling that they were being watched by someone.

Quickly winding their way through the streets and people, they finally arrived at a modest-looking general goods store. Upon entering after the big man, Susumu saw Kai's wife standing behind the counter, quite startled, but that surprise on her face was short-lived as she ushered her husband and the unconscious woman he was carrying, along with both he and Tetsu towards the back of the store and into the house.

He followed his friends in, and stepped back while he saw Hiroko swiftly bring out a futon and blankets before sweeping off to another room to fetch linens and a pan of water. As soon as Kai put the woman down, Susumu got to work, dumping the small satchel that he carried to the side. He didn't mind the fact that Tetsu was just standing back, unable to move into help, for it was already crowded with both him, Kai, and Hiroko trying to clean and carefully undress the woman so that her wounds could start to be bandaged. He was worried for the woman – she was burning up quite badly, and even with the layers caked on her skin, he could still feel a great amount of heat burning through.

It was a long while before the woman that Tetsu had called Hanako could be seen under the grim that covered her. In the midst of that undressing, cleaning, redressing, and bandaging her wounds, Hiroko had gone back to the shop to tend to customers, and it was then, that Tetsu stepped in to help. When all was said and done, and the woman finally tucked into a clean yukata, wrapped up in so many bandages that it was better to keep her yukata loose than to fully tighten it, and a lighter than normal blanket upon her, it was then that Susumu set to work on trying to diagnose what caused her fever and how to go about reducing it.

~~~

Night had fallen and the meal that Kai had brought to his side while he remained at his patient's side remained untouched. The big man had also taken Tetsu away to at least give him information on the situation with the docks and those they needed to contact, but Susumu's mind was not really on the opium issue anymore. Hanako's fever had not been reduced, and though Susumu had initially suspected that it was because of an infection from any amount of the wounds, her symptoms did not match what he knew of fevers that usually accompanied infections.

For one, her fever was unusually low, and it was only because the layers that covered her skin had amplified the initial heat of her body that he had felt. She was shaking, and he had covered her with a thicker blanket, but she was not sweating at all. Neither was she displaying the usual red throat or any such symptoms of a cold, last he checked her throat. He had briefly considered that she had ingested something wrong and that was causing her fever and shaking, but since she was not awake, it was dangerous for him to even give her anything that would cause her to vomit, such as ginseng. She could either choke on her own vomit, or it would only exacerbate her symptoms. Thus he was left with one option, to feed her the extracted remains of mashed lotus roots that were made into a tea. It was the most neutral of herbal teas that he could give her.

He heard footsteps outside of the room he sat in, watching over her, and moments later, the partition slid open. “How is she?” he heard Tetsu ask.

“Still feverish,” he answered, turning slightly to see that his friend was dressed in patchy clothes that was his disguise. Instead of him, Susumu, who was to go to the docks tonight, Kai had offered to take his place. Susumu had also insisted that Tetsu go with Kai, for there was nothing that his friend could do for Tatsu's wife. Tetsu had reluctantly agreed, but they both knew that it was useless for Tetsu to stay, not when there was information to be had from the docks about the new opium and the missing Tatsu.

He knew that his friend was hoping that Hanako would wake up, for both of them knew that since Hanako had been declared missing and the government had sent someone to find her and Tatsu. How on earth did she end up in Sendai? There had been no policemen or anyone from the government who stopped by since they had brought her to Kai and Hiroko's store-house. They had speculated then, that she probably escaped, but with no knowledge as to where she escaped from, they could only wait until she hopefully woke up.

She had nothing identifying where she had been kept and how many days and nights she had spent out in the wild. Her clothes, or what was left of them, were ordinary, and the numerous cuts, scrapes, and open wounds looked like they were sustained from being and traveling outside with barely any proper protection from the elements. Susumu wished he had something to lift the spirits of his friend up, but all he could do was make sure that he fed her a sip of the lotus tea every half hour, and with Hiroko's help, that her wounds were cleaned and bandages reapplied.

“She's not going to wake up anytime soon, Tetsu,” he said. “You might as well go and do this.”

“Yeah,” his friend listlessly answered, “sure.”

Seeing that there was nothing else that he needed to immediately do for the woman, he got up from where he had been sitting, feeling a rush of a tingling sensation crawling up and down his legs as he tapped his toes on the tatami mat to get some feeling back into his legs. Taking his friend by the arm, he guided him out and close the partition to preserve the heat in the room. It was a little chillier than he had anticipated in the hallway that led to the kitchens and to the storefront, but Kai was already approaching from the kitchen. He too was dressed in shabby clothing, but had a red-brown hair wig sitting on his head where black hair should have been.

There had been no way to get rid of Tetsu's eye patch, and so instead of wearing the clean, neat one that he wore everyday, it seemed that either his friend or Kai had improvised with a thick piece of cloth of sorts and wrapped it around his blind eye. Susumu thought that Tetsu looked a little more pirate-like than he had been, which considering the clothes he wore now, matched nicely with the disguise.

“Ready?” Kai asked.

Tetsu silently nodded, and as he watched his two friends leave, he could not help but sigh quite heavily. He had hoped that nothing like the summer's incident would ever happen again, but it seemed that life was never going to give them a break. Saigo Takamori's rebellion blew a hole into just how vulnerable the government was, and since then, it seemed like there had been an endless amount of people or organizations that sought to destabilize the peace. He could not believe that people in general were more genuinely happy during the Bakumatsu – only those who loved the bloodshed were, and most of them were dead.

“Susumu, I've boiled some more lotus tea,” the voice of Hiroko called from the kitchen.

He look one last look down the hall and towards the darkened shop before turning and headed towards the kitchen. “Thank you, Hiroko,” he said, taking the small tray that had the tea pot and a fresh mug. “And I'm sorry that we had to intrude upon yours and Kai's hospitality like this.”

“Nonsense, Susumu,” she said, dusting her hands. “Our home is always open to you and your friends.”

With another murmur of his grateful thanks, he returned to the room where his patient was. Setting the tray down, he was in the midst of pushing away the old tray that contained the cold tea pot and mug, when movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention. Pausing, he looked up and saw that his patient was slowly blinking her eyes and becoming more aware and awake with each passing moment.

Abandoning his preparation for the new cup of tea, he shifted across the tatami mats and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, saying, “It's all right. You're safe now, Hanako-san. You're safe. It's me, Yamazaki-sensei. I am a friend of Tetsu and Tatsu and am taking care of you.”

The woman took a few large swallows of air and saliva as she continued to blink before Susumu saw her attempt to try to get up. Placing his other hand on her other shoulder, he gently pushed her back down, saying, “You shouldn't move too much. You're still recovering from your wounds.”

“T-Tetsunosuke,” she murmured, surprising him with just how much strength she had by refusing to budge under the small amount of pressure he was applying to her shoulders. “I need to warn him...”

While normally he would insist on a patient to lie still, he let her go and instead, helped her to sit up. While still feverish, it didn't seem like her fever was attributed to delirium or to fatigue. In the dim light that the lanterns lit around the room, he could see that her eyes were dilated quite normally and that that small amount of exertion that she had shown just to sit up was not causing her wheeze. Apart from her fever and the chills that occasionally wracked her body, it was as if she did not either feel or care for the fact that she was covered in so many bandaged wounds.

Quickly draping a lighter blanket over her shoulders, he turned from her for a moment and poured out a half mug of tea. Gingerly handing it to her, noting that she was looking around with some confusion as to where exactly she was, she took it and wrapped her hands around the steaming mug. “Hanako--” he began.

“I am not Hanako, Yamazaki-sensei,” she softly said as she took a tentative and careful sip of her tea. “That was a name picked out by Katsura-san when he made sure that my second husband and I were safely hidden away from the prying eyes of the secret organization that hunted both of us. I am legally married to Tatsunosuke, but I have always retained the name of my first husband before he was killed during the revolution. I am Sakamoto Oryou, and on a cold December day in 1867 of the western calendar, my first husband, Ryouma, was assassinated by the Chrysanthemum Guards in Kyoto.”

* * *

_Somewhere in the forests between Zaousan and Sendai..._

 

_Blood_.

Kenshin was not the only one to tug the rein of his own horse to halt it as the others did as well. Between the four of them, not one clue small or otherwise, escaped their notice as they made their way to Sendai. The shortcut through Zaousan had proven to be a boon, for as soon as they cleared the path, they had immediately started to encounter signs of wagons being pulled through the area. Snapped branches caused by heavy objects barreling through, along with the occasionally imprint of cantering hooves in the ground, horse hair left behind on twigs and leaves, and strands of linen from clothing torn while hurrying through, littered the path.

They were less than half a day's ride to catching up with the bandits, children, and Yahiko and the others, but it was the abrupt tang of blood wafting into the air, carried by the cold autumn breeze that halted them. Whinnying with displeasure at being stopped in such an abrupt manner, he patted the side of his horse for a brief moment before dismounting. The other three had also dismounted, and all of them were warily looking around, alert for any signs of danger.

Surprisingly, it was Okita who took the lead as the former First Unit Captain tugged on the halter of his own horse forward with his right hand, while keeping his left on his scabbard, ready to angle it for a quick draw and strike should anything attack them. Kenshin, Saitou, and Soujirou followed him, and step by step, as they got closer to where the origin of the blood smell was coming from, it did not escape their notice that the sounds of the insects that usually chirped with the waning light was absent.

It wasn't in a clearing that they found the bodies, but rather still within the forest, though a great many trunks of trees looked as if they had been cleaved in half or completely uprooted. A great fight had taken place here, and judging by the smell of decay on the dead bandits they had found, Kenshin estimated the fight to have taken place not three hours or so before. He looked around at just how much destruction had been rendered in this area, listening to the murmurs of Okita and Saitou crouched before one of the bodies, examining it. Soujirou had headed towards another body, and in a way, he was glad that the dead in this place did not include Yahiko or the others.

He let go of his horse's halter and approached the two former Shinsengumi members, as he heard Okita say, “... too messy and haphazard in strikes.”

There was the unspoken thought that perhaps one of the children may have killed the bandits, as Kenshin caught Saitou's glance up at him. “Yahiko and Misao know better than to kill,” he stated to the policeman. “So does your son.”

“As does Yukimura-kun,” Okita murmured. “None of the strikes upon this body look like it was inflicted by any of the children.”

“Then it must have been one or both of the twins,” Soujirou spoke up, approaching them. “I have never seen it, but I have heard from others that Sachiko-san and Hikari-san both have the ability to mimic different styles to try to cause confusion. If they did indeed do such a thing to these bandits, it is most likely a ploy to throw us off.”

“They know they are being pursued, but is it by us or by the children?” Okita murmured.

“Why do such a thing, when it would have been easier to make a point with Hiten Mitsurugi to either party about their strengths to deter at least the children,” Saitou said, standing back up. “Those guys over there--” the policeman jerked a thumb towards a pile of bodies “--looks like they've been killed by Udou Ji'ne. The rest look like a sorry attempt at dismembering and gutting. Elegance in killing would have been much more ideal, not this mess of an excuse. This just implies that they're amateur swordsmen.”

“They will have already reached Sendai at this point,” Kenshin said, shaking his head slightly as he saw Soujirou frown slightly. Okita had gotten up from where he had been crouched and headed over to not the pile of bodies that Saitou had indicated that looked like Ji'ne's handiwork, but to another. “If we push the horses, we can make it to the docks before sunrise – hopefully before they cast off with their cargo--”

“Saitou-san,” Okita's sharp voice interrupted whatever else he was about to say. “Step back and look at the bodies all around us. Does this not look familiar?”

Frowning, Kenshin took a step back, his expression mirroring that of Soujirou as they gave the two ex-Shinsengumi captains a wide berth. For all that they had done, Kenshin deferred to both of their expertise in the matter of examining bodies, for he knew that that was what they had done during the revolution. Kenshin was the assassin that killed, and the two captains were the investigators who tried to find out who had done the killing.

Though Saitou's mouth was set into a thin line, the man took Okita's suggestion seriously and carefully looked around, specifically focusing in on all the bodies. Even before the former Third Unit Captain was finished, Okita had turned from where he was standing, a grim look upon his face. “The last time we saw such a specific type of mass murder was _that_ particular night, when every person in that flower house in Shimabara was killed supposedly by Tosa hitokiri, Okada Izou. These bodies all look like they have been killed by him.”

“A man dead for more than ten years,” Kenshin barely heard Saitou's words. “Then...”

“Yes, I do believe it as well, Saitou-san,” Okita stated.

“You said that these Chrysanthemum Guards had a hand in the revolution but lost control over it,” Saitou stated, turning directly towards Soujirou. “When and for how long?”

“Some time before and after the Emperor demanded the Shogun's answer on how to deal with the foreigners,” Soujirou answered, looking away, grimacing. “I don't know much about those times.”

“Saitou,” Kenshin stated in a warning, taking a step forward out of concern.

Though he did not know what had happened to the young man, he did remember those particular haunting words that Soujirou had said to him during their second fight. Something during those times, in the beginning of the revolution, haunted the young man, and by demanding information from an organization that had caused many more scars to form on the young man's mind, Saitou was being quite callous. He could not fault Okita for not knowing about Soujirou's state of mind at that time, for there was no reason that Okita would know of such detailed things. Saitou... he had no excuse, for Kenshin had explicitly stated to the policeman how exactly the second fight had happened and how it was resolved.

“If it is true, what those twins had done back then and now, then they will not all be heading towards Sendai's docks,” Okita stated. “They will have diverted at least some of their captured elsewhere.”

Saitou gave a bitter bark of laughter before saying, “I always did wonder how and why the rail lines from Sendai to Aomori managed to remain untouched during the summer incident.” The policeman paused for a moment before saying, “Battousai, you and the boy will go to the docks and intercept whomever is there. Okita and I will intercept those at the train station. Sendai's main police station is at the eastern foot of Aobayama next to the river. _Don't_ let them know you're coming. Trust no one in the city.”

 

~*~*~*~

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

Apart from the discomfort of sitting and riding on a horse for a very long time, along with the aching heaviness that settled across his chest whenever he took a deep breath in the cold air, Okita found that his strength was still as much the same as it had been during the summer. He had not engaged in any fights since setting off from Tokyo, but he was no fool to know that if he and Saitou found any evidence of the kidnappers and those of the Chrysanthemum Guards on the train, he would need to conserve his strength. That was not to say that he would not kill, but he would have to fight and kill very efficiently – as efficiently as he had done during the days when he served as an assassin of sorts to the Shinsengumi's former commander, Serizawa Kamo.

As dawn spilled over the hills that were covered in colorful forests, slowly transitioning to bare flat lands, he kept his thoughts about that particular night long ago to a minimum. Serizawa had to be killed so that the Shinsengumi would not fall under rebel influence, that was certain in itself. However, the murders committed in the flower house in Shimabara where they had suspected that Serizawa had a contact inside had never been fully solved. The blame had been placed on Okada Izou, but he had heard that when Tosa clansmen finally captured the rogue hitokiri, the young man had confessed under torture to have never set foot in that particular flower house or would callously murder so many.

But Okita had placed thoughts of that night to the side, for by that time, a fresh new, boisterous recruit by the name of Ichimura Tetsunosuke, had joined them and things around the city were heating up some more. At the present, seeing such a massacre in the forest had brought the memories of the violent revolution back to the forefront, and with what the young man, Seta Soujirou, had stated about these mysterious Chrysanthemum Guards' involvement during the revolution, he was sure that they had a possible hand in that flower house murder – perhaps even in the chaos that had plunged Kyoto and the entire country into.

He had seen the similarities, between him and Seta – not physical – but mental and to an extent, emotional as well. He had first heard of the swordsman from Misao last year, when he had finally worked up the courage to tell those he cared about that he was alive. While helping to repair the Aoiya, the young woman had told him, Yamazaki, and Yukimura about the battle that had taken place here and how she and the Oniwabanshuu got involved. Of course, young Myoujin had embellished a few of the battles with commentary from his own perspective, but it was the first fight between Himura and Seta Soujirou had piqued his interest.

Apart from both him and Saitou managing to fight against Himura during the revolution to draws, the fact that Seta had fought and _beaten_ Himura the first time surprised him. That, and the fact that Misao had stated that Saitou had been present and had not even attempted to intervene before and after the fight strictly because the policeman could not read Seta's intent intrigued him. In the times which he, Okita, had encountered Himura, he had not been able to read the hitokiri's _ken-ki_ until the very last moment, but to hear of someone who had absolutely no _ken-ki_ to read before, during, and after an attack was unheard of.

That had not been the case when he finally met Seta face-to-face at Rintarou's home. He had sensed a very placid feeling surrounding the young man that was undercut with a current of regret that swam in his eyes. While most would scoff at such a young person assassinating someone like Okubo Toshimichi, Okita did not think it was not possible – it was possible, for the way the young man held himself and was built slender was for one thing: speed. And the young man had verbally stated that proof when he had informed Himura (and the others) of those of the Guards who practiced Hiten Mitsurugi in comparison to his skills.

Okita had never seen Seta in action, but apart from what he had been told, and what he knew of Himura's own abilities before and after the revolution, it gave him a sense of just what they were dealing with. _Shukuchi_ , the legendary speed in which all swordsmen strove to obtain, was something few achieved. The fact that they were dealing with at least five swordsmen who practiced the most powerful sword style known to the country, _and_ had the ability to achieve _shukuchi_ , or therein close to it, told him that what they were facing against was something far more dangerous than anything faced before.

There was, however, one lingering question that it seemed that none of them, not even Seta, could answer: **why?** Why were these mysterious Chrysanthemum Guards just emerging from the shadows they had long held themselves to? Even with five powerful swordsmen, they were inviting disaster upon themselves by drawing the ire of the entire Japanese government. It could be said that the kidnapping of Myoujin, Saitou's son Eiji, and of his son, Yukimura, had additionally drew the wrong kind of attention to them, but it seemed that they were well into their schemes before that had even happened.

Saitou had been tasked to find out the infrastructure and to start dismantling the Guards, but that was being compounded by his and Himura's kidnapping investigation. They were related, but Okita had a feeling that this was much bigger than what any of them could handle, even with their combined resources. After the summer's events, they had not the resources or favor to call upon shinobi formerly allied with the Oniwabanshuu, and he had to admit to himself that the Guards had picked a fine time to cause a great amount of chaos within the country with their overt antics. But even crippled, the government had resources to spend upon – and Okita was not entirely settled with the idea of yet another civil war. He would fight if necessary, for the wolf within him was never banished and he would see justice done, but he would rather not have his son grow up surrounded by bloodshed and violence as he and his wife had been.

The tooting of a distant train horn catapulted him out of his thoughts as he blinked and focused his eyes ahead. Just beyond this patch of farmland was the raised bump in the otherwise flat land that contained the train tracks and Sendai's station. Wooden poles and numerous black wires that looked like a long spider's weave stretched across the horizon. The billowing smoke from the frightening black contraption that had several long rectangular carts attached to it, caused oxen and farmers already at work to look up.

People at the station milled about, but that horn signified that the train was just about ready to depart. There were more than a few women, men, and young children standing on the open platform, waving at their friends and family who were headed to Aomori. A few policemen were also at the station, but the majority of uniformed people present were those who operated the train station. No matter what they did, they could not get civilians and innocents mixed up in this mess.

Wordlessly, he gave a quick glance over at Saitou, who merely increased his horse's speed, and while doing the same to his own, they tore across the paddies, intent on catching up with the train before it could leave the station and chug along at full speed. While the first few carts after the front of the train and coal cart were passenger sections, judging by the windows that lined the carts, the latter two carts at the end seemed to be entirely encased in metal. With the limited knowledge he had of these new-fangled ways of getting from place to place in the country, he could only assume that cargo of sorts that were not passengers were kept there. If the Guards were trying to keep a low profile and not draw attention among the populace with their kidnappings, then the children would most likely be smuggled into those boxcars.

He saw the wheels on the front of the train spin once, twice, before finally catching some grip on the rails and slowly, like lumbering oxen, the train started to pull away from the station. Just as the last cargo car cleared the open platform, that was when the station workers and the policemen finally noticed them. He could see the officers scrambling for weapons and shouting, but it was much too late for the men to stop them.

Instinctively ducking as the reports of rifle shots whizzed over their heads, both he and Saitou guided their horses onto the tracks, charging all the way up to the back of the train. Okita ducked yet again as another stray musket ball flew perilously close to him, just as he saw Saitou slowly stand on the stirrups of his horse. Not a moment later, his comrade leapt forward, snatching onto the metal ladder railing that ran up and down the back of the boxcar. Seeing that Saitou was not going to fall and was already making his way up the ladder, Okita did the same.

The wind whipped around him as he balanced himself upon the stirrups of his horse, leaning slightly into the beast as he felt it heave and start to falter. He needed to jump now before the train could accelerate any further. Pushing off with all of his strength, he slammed into the railing, managing to catch himself from slipping and falling to the tracks below. Adjusting his grip, he climbed up, feeling the cart bounce along the tracks as another blast of the train horn was heard. Just as he hauled himself over the lip of the boxcar, the freezing wind whipping strands of his hair that had gotten loose from the tie that held most of it back, he saw Saitou draw out his sword and crouch slightly.

It was not only for grip upon the rickety and unsteady ride as the train continued to accelerate, but also for the fact that there were eight people scrambling up from within the second cargo compartment on the train. Ordinary-looking in dressage, he could have mistaken them for normal citizens of any town or city in the country, but it was the intent he felt from them, and the rifles and revolvers that they brandished that told him otherwise. Civilians were not allowed to carry any weapons, and policemen did not even carry firearms – only batons and swords. These were Chrysanthemum Guards members.

He too drew his sword as he steadied himself as best as possible, stopping next to Saitou. A rather enormous gap separated the two boxcars, where the mechanism to link all compartments of the train together was located, but the distance was nothing compared to the range that the guns had. As one, both of them suddenly launched themselves at the Guards, just as the beginning of a report of the revolvers and rifles sang through the air.

Okita charged in low, his _ki-ai_ screaming across the gulf, unleashing _Hirasegan_ straight at the nearest Guard who held a revolver. Multiple bullets flew by him, missing him by just a hairsbreadth as he spiraled towards the man, sinking his the tip of his blade into the Guard's chest. Just as he heard Saitou crash spectacularly down from on high with Gatotsu-Nishiki leading the way, slicing the other revolver-wielding Guard from head to naval, he pulled his blade out of the first Guard. Bringing it up on high, he advanced towards another Guard, slicing through rifle, clothing, flesh, and bone in one downward stroke.

His momentum carried him forward and down, as he tucked into a roll and came up to stab yet another Guard right in the stomach before said Guard could bring his bayonet to bear upon Saitou, who had struck the Guard next to him. Pulling his blade out as the man staggered back, he stepped back, swinging his sword to the right in a lateral arc, just as Saitou did the same, swinging to the left; both of them slicing across and into two more Guards.

With only one Guard member left, Okita slowly straightened and steadied himself as the cold wind continued to whip around him, trying to push him off the slick train rooftop. He casually flicked his blade to rid it of the blood as he saw Saitou deal with the final man with a simple dodge in the Guard's attempt to charge and stab. Saitou merely kicked the man with enough force to lift him off the rooftop of the boxcar, sending the Guard careening off into the open air and plummeting to his death.

While not the most elegant of deaths, it certainly told him that Saitou was in quite a foul mood. He knew that the policeman usually killed in a fashion that allowed him to utilize his sword skills as much as possible. Dealing death was personal, and though neither took pleasure from it, it reinforced the reasons why they did what they did – that was justice. That rather violent and unceremonious kick off the train's rooftop was not personal, and Okita understood the reason why. He too was tired of being played with, toyed with by seemingly larger-than-life entities.

Sheathing his sword, he followed Saitou as the man peered over the edge of the train's rooftop for a brief moment before crouching and swinging himself down. He followed his friend's actions and upon landing inside of the boxcar, he blinked back his surprise at just what was in this particular boxcar. Crates upon long crates were stacked up each other, but it was the smell that even the wind howling outside of the still accelerating train that could not erase it.

Gunpowder.

The entire boxcar was filled with the smell of pinewood and gunpowder. Sliding the nearest door close, he walked over to do the same to the other side, enveloping the boxcar in less noise and light. Allowing a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the relative darkness, he saw Saitou grab a chisel from the top of one of the crates and jam it between the covering. Forcing it open with a grunt, Okita grabbed the edge of the lifted covering as Saitou tried to force more of the chisel into the crate before enough force was applied to rip the cover off.

Before he could peer into the crate, he suddenly doubled over as his body finally overcame his will to force him to acknowledge what was slowly killing him. Coughing as his lungs burned from breathing in such cold air, he sunk to the ground, tucking his chin towards his chest as prickly pain trembled through his body with each expulsion of air. Momentary tears sprang into his eyes, but they were quickly blinked away as he forced himself to control the coughs.

He could not allow his body to falter, not while another threat lingered in the country, and certainly not while his son was still in danger. As soon as he could, he stood back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, unsure if he was wiping blood or spittle that had been coughed up. Saitou said nothing except to reach into the crate and pull out a rifle and examine it.

He decided to head towards the back, for he had a feeling that perhaps other types of cargo were being stored in the second boxcar. “ _Berdan_ and _Mauser_ rifles. _Colt_ revolvers,” he heard Saitou mutter as he grabbed another chisel and forced a few more crates open, hearing the man do the same to other crates near him. “These weren't even introduced into the Imperial Army until after Shiroyama. No station north of Himeji even has these weapons yet.”

Though he was unfamiliar with the foreign words that the man had used to describe the weapons that sat in the crates, the fact that these were weapons that Tokyo's police force had not even been armed with yet, along with the fact that there were a numerous amount of crates in this boxcar told him enough. Not only were the Guards kidnapping children, they were smuggling weapons that only the Imperial Army was authorized to use. Young Seta Soujirou's words to them about the Guards and their proliferation and infiltration into ordinary civilian life resurfaced in his mind, and he narrowed his eyes at the thought.

He continued towards the back of the boxcar. Opening the tiny door, the noise of the train and wind assaulted his ears, but he ignored it and leapt over the gap to the other side. Opening that door, he stepped in and immediately felt the scared presence of several children. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness again, he saw their small forms move slightly from behind several crates. From what he could see, several of the children had been bound hand and foot. He also heard the scrape of Saitou's footsteps turn from behind him, before the man leapt back towards the weapons-cache boxcar.

Just as he turned, he saw Saitou draw his sword out and quickly swung it down to sever the connection between the two boxcars. Any other person would have protested the movement, but he knew what his friend intended – their investigations may have been briefly intertwined, but Saitou was not yet done with his own, and thus would continue onward to Aomori by himself. Okita merely gave a curt nod towards his comrade's dwindling form, seeing Saitou sheathe his sword, before turning back and and made his way further into the decelerating boxcar.

It was not to say that he would abandon Saitou to the Chrysanthemum Guards, for he did not feel the presence of Yukimura within the boxcar, but these children needed to be delivered to safety first. His own personal reason for agreeing to work with the government on the kidnapping investigation was not yet fulfilled, but he could not abandon the children on their own, not when there was a perilous journey back to Sendai. Even if his son was found among those in Sendai, he still considered it his duty to finish the overall investigation. The Chrysanthemum Guards needed to be brought to justice for all they had done.

He would eventually find some way to catch up with Saitou, and bring reinforcements with him. The Wolves of Mibu always hunted in packs, and he knew that this particular hunt was far from over.

* * *

It was the same in any coastal town, village, or city that he had stopped by during his days wandering the whole of the country – the most active area in the morning hours were the ports. Fishermen with fresh catches, bidders bidding for the fresh fishes, along with cargo ships getting ready to set sail dotted the busy area. Though it was crowded, it was not too crowded, and thus, Kenshin kept the rice picker's hat that he had found on the side of the road leading into Sendai, on his head. His sword had been wrapped up in a long piece of cloth and tied in a sling against his back.

Soujirou, walking beside him, was wearing a rather moldy, patched-up rice picker's hat, but did not complain about such a disguise. Since the young man was not armed, there was no need to hide any weapon of sorts. Snatches of conversations around the city also told them that all ships were still docked at the port and had been for the past few days. But Kenshin was worried – they had entered the city with ease, taking care to avoid the main police station at the foot of Aobayama. For all that had happened thus far, it felt a little to easy.

He and the young man were certainly not adepts in infiltration or disguise, and what he knew only came from his time as an assassin, stalking his prey. He had not wanted to dive back into those memories, but for the sake of Yahiko and the others, he did, and thus, approached the various fish vendors and dock hands running about with some caution. He saw various helpers run back and forth between the docks and the planks up the ships, but it was a familiar face, or rather hair, among the dockworkers that caught his attention.

Red-brown was not a very common hair color among Japanese people, and thus people who wore it stood out quite a bit, hence why he had also worn the rice-picker's hat. However, there was a person among the patrons and vendors who wore such a color – one who was wearing a cloth of sorts over one of his eyes, and even without that piece of cloth, the mannerisms and stance of the man was quite familiar to him. Said person was standing by a vendor's booth, seemingly waiting for someone. The vendor of the booth was not present.

However, he did not call out to Ichimura Tetsunosuke, even though he wondered why his cousin was here in the city. He thought that Tetsunosuke was in Tokyo, helping Yamazaki with the opium investigation, or would have already returned to Kyoto. Saitou had clearly stated not to trust anyone in the city, but did the policeman know that Tetsunosuke was in the city, or for the matter, know of the opium investigation? He, Kenshin, had not told him about the investigation, but perhaps during the ride to Sendai, Okita had. It went without saying that though Kenshin wanted to believe that not everyone in Sendai was a member of the Guards or had been indoctrinated by them, Soujirou's revelations, however little they were, about the mysterious organization, casted doubt into every corner.

His speculations were all for naught, as he suddenly sensed more than a few people with ill-intent. Looking around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary, but realized that whatever looked ordinary to him was the root of that ill intent. All of it just happened to be focused upon Tetsunosuke. He immediately stepped up, stopping next to his cousin as he felt Soujirou shift slightly beside him, looking as nonchalant as possible, while carrying the usual disarming smile that he remembered the young man almost always wore. He had no doubts that the young man had also sensed the danger.

“That type of fish,” he said pointing towards a column of silver-black fish on the vendor's offerings that had iridescent scales, “is excellent for farming purposes, if you want to ensure that the soil is healthy enough to sustain crops, that it is.”

“K-Kenshin?” Tetsunosuke said as he saw the man glance over at him, surprise etched across his face. “What... what are you doing here?”

“There are some people around who wish you ill,” he calmly stated. “I know not why, but we must get you to safety--”

“Can't,” Tetsunosuke answered, shaking his head slightly before gesturing towards the ship that the booth stood before. “Waiting for Kai.”

“Kai?” he questioned, taking a discreet look around, but noticing that though the feeling remained, everyone was still going about their own business.

“Shimada Kai,” Tetsunosuke answered in a low whisper. “A friend. Aoshi sent us up here to see if there's any further information about the opium thing. We're also searching for my brother. This was the sketchiest vendor we observed since last night, so we asked to see what other catch he has. He said that there were some fresher fish, so Kai stated that he wanted to see it. He's up there right now.”

“Your brother is missing?” he said, surprised. “When--” he never got to finish his question when a flurry of activity on the edge of the plank that led to the ship in front of them diverted both of their attentions.

“Stop sniffing about.”

“Kai!” he heard Tetsunosuke shout as he saw a severe-looking man marching forward another shabbily dressed man with what looked like to be a red-brown haired wig askew and revealing black hair. There was a dangerous presence emanating from the severe-looking man, as he realized that the man looked similar to Okita Rintarou. He also recognized the other being held hostage, even with his disguise no longer working – he had briefly met Shimada Kai last year in the aftermath of the Juppongatana attack on the Aoiya. He immediately stepped out, ready to draw his sakabatou, but it was Soujirou's hand flung out towards him that stopped his actions.

“Okita Kiyoshi,” was all Soujirou said, confirming the severe-looking man's name and what he represented.

Tetsunosuke had also not moved, as Kenshin warily looked around, noticing that not only were there no screams of fright that usually accompanied anyone holding a sword to another's neck, as Kiyoshi was doing to Shimada, every man, woman, and _child_ had stopped whatever they were doing and were standing as still as statues. But it was only for a brief moment before the seemingly strange spell was broken – and those people around the docks, from vendors, to buyers, movers, even just urchins running around moments ago, snatched up whatever was closest to them to bear as a weapon of sorts.

Kenshin heard his cousin curse in quite a loud and articulate manner, as his mind reeled in revulsion and horror – children of all people, innocents, had been indoctrinated. How their actions had been triggered was a mystery – could those three words said have been the trigger words, much like what the newspaper story about Sakamoto had done to that poor soul in Tokyo? He didn't know, but there was no doubt of the intent within their stances. Man, woman, and child – it didn't matter – they were all staring at them with one purpose: to kill them.

“Ichimura Tetsunosuke,” Kiyoshi stated, drawing their attention back to the two on the ship. “And is that little Seta-kun's presence that I feel?”

“It is,” the young man answered, removing his rice-picker's hat, expression that of an oddly cheerful countenance, but Kenshin could read nervousness bleeding off of Soujirou. The Soujirou he knew had never been nervous, but then again, he had only managed to read the intent of the young swordsman at the last moment in their second battle before he had defeated him.

“Let them go, Okita-dono,” he immediately said, removing his own rice-picker's hat as well. He wanted this to not end with any of the civilians at the docks bearing the brunt of his sakabatou or fists from the others. “Let all of them go, or I will involve myself in this.”

“Ah,” Kiyoshi said, barking in bitter laughter, “you must have told him about that negotiated treaty between your mother and the great Hiko Seijuurou, Seta-kun, didn't you?” Soujirou remained silent, but maintained the cheerful expression upon his face, though Kenshin could feel that the young man's nervousness was still present, if not more acute than before. “Unfortunately, I don't subscribe to such cowardice. I do thank you, Seta-kun, for involving the infamous Hitokiri Battousai. It's wonderful to finally have this monotony of abducting children broken.”

It was a challenge as any, and not a moment after the man spoke his words, Kenshin saw Shimada being violently shoved forward, with Kiyoshi using him as a springboard of sorts to leap high into the air. “Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Ryuutsuisen!”

He barely cleared his sakabatou from the scabbard in time, bringing it up over his head just as Kiyoshi's katana smashed into it. The force of the impact not only caused the vendor stand and the fish on top of it to be blown over, but also forcefully pushed both Tetsunosuke and Soujirou back. But the two were not released from the fight as the civilians at the docks descended upon them with a ferociousness that was similar to an rabid animals tearing apart prey.

But he could not afford to pay attention to his cousin, Shimada, or Soujirou, for Kiyoshi was moving incredibly fast, ripping down his sword at the point of impact, forcing him to step back and drag his own sword down to counter the attempt to slice him from head to sternum. A millisecond of relief came between them before that was shattered when the man struck again slicing in an upwards sweep, forcing Kenshin to defend himself as he was pressed back.

Blow after blow, sweep after sweep, he was continuously forced back, feeling that he was coming up upon a wall of bodies that were being barely held back by Tetsunosuke and Shimada. Soujirou was utilizing as much speed as he could pour in to continue to knock out as many civilians as possible, trying to give Kenshin space to maneuver, but Kenshin could not find a point in time in the relentless attack that Kiyoshi was inflicting upon him to even attempt to strike.

Heaviness weighed his arms and body as he was forced to counter each strike with the same strength that the man had put into his own in order to not even falter for one second. The last time he had come under such unrelenting blows was when his master had been training him to learn the final technique. Kiyoshi was merciless and quick to pick up any sense of weakness. Kenshin swung his sword to the left, over his shoulder, to the right, and overhead. Slicing forward for a second to block yet another upwards sweep of a strike, he kept his arms down with as much weight as he could put behind the aborted strike.

He managed to make the man pause for just a split second, before the blurred form of Soujirou jumped in and broke the stalemate. Somehow, the young man had acquired a sword of his own, namely a wakizashi, and struck from below, flinging all three blade tips into the air. The young man managed to swiftly kick Kiyoshi in the chest, as Kenshin heard the him shout, “I have him, Himura-san!”

Stumbling back slightly, he acknowledged the brief exchange in battle partners, and immediately turned to engage a rather strange-looking man dressed in western clothing with his tailcoats flapping about. It pained him to hurt civilians, but he quickly brought his sword, down from his spin, striking the civilian in the shoulders, knocking him out.

He kept pushing forward, hearing the fierce battle behind him mixing in with the yells and cries of rage coming from the civilians. Both Tetsunosuke and Shimada were also trying to avoid hitting the children, especially with the batons both had managed to acquire, but it seemed that the children had no qualms about attacking any of them. He danced around them, trying to use the momentum of those adults he managed to knock back to push the children out of the way. Unconscious bodies littered the area around them, as they slowly moved forward towards the square that connected the docks to the rest of the city.

He could sense Soujirou continuously being pushed back, but even though his nervousness was still there, there was a sense of unyielding force. He quickly glanced back, but at the rate the two were moving towards him in their brutal fight, it was just like the second time he had fought the young man – he could not see a thing other than glimpses of them, read only through the intent both swordsmen exuded. Just as he, Tetsunosuke, and Shimada managed to enter and clear a route to the square, allowing the more room to maneuver, the piercing whistles of policemen sounded through the air.

Breathing a sigh of relief as the piercing whistles were causing the civilians to stop acting so strangely as they blinked, seemingly waking up from sleep. Just as they started to drop their makeshift weapons, Kenshin turned to see Kiyoshi attempt a final attack on Soujirou, who managed to block the blow, but not the kick in the stomach that came right after it. The strangled cry of the young man shattered the air, but was quickly drowned out by the whistles of the police and the mad thundering of civilians with horror etched upon their faces as they saw the chaos that had been rendered around them.

It was Shimada who managed to reach Soujirou first, scooping up the young man to keep him from being trampled. Dust kicked up into the air as the cold morning breeze blew it all over the place. Given what little he knew of the nature of Kiyoshi, Kenshin was surprised that the man had not even deigned to attack them with the civilians flowing in and around them. He took a quick glance back to see several uniformed policemen of Sendai pouring into the square, some wielding sabres while others were carrying rifles and revolvers. He hadn't seen a revolver since that suicide in Tokyo and was surprised that policemen were now armed with them.

He sheathed his sword, feeling a rather painful ache crawl all over his body, as he faced Kiyoshi. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Shimada set Soujirou back down, while Tetsunosuke looked relieved and a bit worse for wear. His cousin had not come out of that skirmish unscathed, and neither did Shimada for the matter. Both were sporting some bleeding bruises, but neither looked too injured, just tired and glad that the ordeal was over. Soujirou looked none the worse either – looking as if he had not even been hit by anything while trying to stop the civilians and fighting against Kiyoshi except for that one kick to his stomach. It seemed that even with the hard days in riding to Sendai, he had healed up and had been fighting Kiyoshi at full strength. If that was true, Kenshin was worried, for he was acutely aware that this was the second time in fighting against a lone practitioner of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu that he, Kenshin, had needed assistance in the fight.

“Give up, Okita-dono,” he stated as the policemen behind him and the others halted, with the cascade of hammers on the rifles and revolvers being pulled back echoing in the air.

“I think not,” the man stated quite confidently, swinging his sword so that the back of it rested on his right shoulder. “Perhaps it is time for you to taste defeat--”

“Okita Kiyoshi!” a chilling voice roared from behind the man. Kenshin saw him step aside for a moment to turn and face the new threat, but saw him falter for a moment. He would have done the same, had he been in the man's shoes – the menacing presence of Okita Souji standing a ship length away from them, with his sword bared, was quite simply put, absolutely terrifying. It was the same presence he remembered encountering the first time he had fought against the swordsman in Kyoto during the revolution. It was not, however, aimed at them, but strictly at Kiyoshi.

“Okita-san,” Tetsunosuke whispered more in fear than in surprise.

“Policemen are not supposed respond to incidents with revolvers or rifles,” the ex-Shinsengumi captain growled. “Call them off.” Kenshin immediately turned half-way, looking over at the policemen gathered behind them and found that not only were those barrels aimed at their four heads, those possessing sabres looked ready to skewer them. Whatever words that Kiyoshi had said were among those that triggered the change in the policemen, and he had not felt that intent. “Call them off, or I will _kill_ you, Kiyoshi,” Okita threatened.

“Ojisan,” the man answered, still adopting a casual, if not careless stance for the moment before swinging his blade off his shoulder and held it to the side. “I thought you died during the revolution. You died a hero in my eyes, fighting against what was wrong, and now look at you... pathetic. Weak. Spouting empty threats that you cannot follow up with. You must have promised my mother to bring me back safely. How can you do that when you've threatened to kill me?”

Even before Okita's _ki-ai_ reached its apex in his blindingly fast charge straight at Kiyoshi, Kenshin was already flying into action by diving straight towards Tetsunosuke and Shimada – just as Soujirou did the same. Silvery bullets flew through the air, straight towards them, as Kenshin snatched at the hilt of his sakabatou, with his left hand already on the scabbard, pushing the blade slightly out. Smashing his feet into the cold ground, the combined force of his draw, along with that of Soujirou's own speedy draw of his wakizashi managed to deflect the bullets from hitting Shimada and Tetsunosuke.

Revolvers were the biggest threat to any of them, as he followed through with that draw by rolling forward and coming up to smash his sword into the legs of a policeman. As the policeman collapsed to the ground, with his chin hitting the dirt hard enough to knock him out, Kenshin continued to weave and dive among the uniformed men felling them as quickly as possible; the battle was not over yet.

* * *

“Susumu!”

The chaotic and frenzied shouts outside had diverted his attention from caring for Ichimura Hanako, or Sakamoto Oryou as she had told him who she really was. He still couldn't really believe what he heard about the mysterious organization, the Chrysanthemum Guards. Shinobi groups were as secretive as they were, but a group controlling the shadows in the shadows... that was almost absurd. But there had been no jesting tone or laughing matter in Sakamoto's eyes. She had been very serious.

They were interrupted when the first of the screams pierced the air. In trying to find out what was happening, all he received was just a general sense that people were fighting at the docks. He had nearly raced out of the door, but it was Hiroko's voice calling out to him that had stopped him.

“What?” he impatiently said.

“Hawk message,” she stated, holding out the folded piece of paper.

“I'll read it when I get back,” he said. “Tetsu and Kai are down there--”

“It contains a potential cure for the indoctrination methods that are being used on the civilians via opium.”

“What?!” he said, turning fully back to face her and took the proffered message. Unfolding it, he quickly read through Aoshi's short-hand message, and felt his eyes widen at the implications. Tokyo had been struck again by several suicides, but two of those people had been stopped. Dr. Takani had tried a method of reversing whatever had been inflicted upon them using the research into the opium, and had managed to break them from whatever they had been indoctrinated with. Looking back up, he said, “Gather whatever ingredients are listed here. I'm going to the docks, and if what is happening down there is what I think it is, we're going to need a lot of that 'cure'.”

“Will do,” Hiroko curtly answered before withdrawing a small blade she had tucked within her obi, handing it to him.

“Yamazaki-sensei,” Sakamoto called out to him from the room she was resting in.

“I'll be right back, Sakamoto-san,” he said, taking the offered blade and handing back the message as he stuffed the blade into the back of his obi. “Please continue to rest here.”

Without listening to whatever else Sakamoto was going to say, he dashed out through the store and into the streets. Pushing through civilians streaming away from the chaos that gripped the docks, he could sense the fear permeate the air. The piercing whistles of policemen sounded from afar, as if coming from the train station. As soon as he got to an alleyway, he scrambled up the side of the building, a part of him wishing that he had the foresight to change into more shinobi-like clothing than staying in his yukata. But it was no matter as he lifted himself up to the rooftop and started to run across them, heading towards the docks.

It took him longer than he liked to get to the docks, mainly due to the fact that he was completely unfamiliar with the rooftop network in Sendai, but when he finally arrived, he halted not in fear, but in utter shock at what laid before him. Civilians, knocked out from whatever had hit them, laid everywhere, starting from about the middle of the docks and leading all the way to the square. As he got closer and closer to where he could hear the sounds of rifles being fired, along with the _ki-ai_ of several people piercing the air, he could also feel several presences.

One was a golden inferno-like presence – familiar but unexpected, two others were familiar presences of Tetsu and Kai, another a piercing cold one that he also did not expect, and the final one that felt like cool metal wrapping around his skin, fighting against the bitter malevolence that blanketed the square. What Himura and Okita were doing here puzzled him, but he set it to the side as he reached the square and saw that not only were policemen _shooting_ at his friends, but that Himura, Okita, and a swordsman that was just a blur to him, were fighting against a lone swordsman.

Tetsu and Kai were desperately trying to knock as many policemen out as possible as the four swordsmen viciously fought, sending clouds of dirt into the air with their strikes, jumps, and clash of swords. How and why Sendai's policemen were shooting at Tetsu and the others was a mystery to him, but one thing was clear – it didn't matter if they were policemen or not, he would not let anyone hurt his friends, most of all Tetsu. Taking the short blade, he flipped it over and jumped down from the rooftops, landing on the ground and immediately tucking into a forward roll. His momentum carried him up as he suddenly sprang up, driving the back of his short blade up and into the chin of an officer, knocking said officer out.

Back flipping, he spun and kicked another one before diving to the ground as a bullet whizzed over his head, coming up again with a springing jump to leap over another officer's left shoulder. Just as his hand brushed against the front of the officer's uniform, he clamped down on the officer's uniform and as he completed his side flip, he hauled the officer up and over, slamming him into the ground. That allowed him to continue to cartwheel forward, lashing out with his right hand that held the blade, smashing it into the temple of an officer on his right. The back of his feet doubled-down and landed on the shoulders of a policeman in front of him, driving the man down.

Landing steadily on his two feet in a half-crouch, he then spun up towards his right, bringing his left leg up in a vicious snap-kick that folded another officer in half. Using that half-spin momentum, he sprang off of his right foot, with his left still arched slightly out as he spun in mid-flight to avoid more bullets that were pulsating from revolvers. The sounds of more policemen and their piercing whistles filled the air as he landed in a crouch, lashing out to fell the officer who had tried to shoot him dead with his revolver.

Quickly stepping up and kneeing another one closest to him, he saw officers in the distance, waving batons and shouting for their comrades to drop the rifles and revolvers. The malevolent presence that seemingly enveloped the area suddenly shrunk as Susumu halted himself from knocking out another policeman with a thrust up towards the officer's chin, as he saw confusion spread across his face. Almost all at once, there was the clatter of revolvers and rifles, along with sabres being dropped to the ground as murmurs of pure confusion rang through the air.

Susumu backed away as quickly as he could as other uniformed officers bearing batons came surging in, turning his attention to the swordsmen still fighting. However, it looked as if the man that Okita, Himura, and the unknown swordsman were fighting against had noticed that the attack had stopped, but was still determined to take one or all three swordsmen out. It was quick, and Susumu barely saw the movement happen, but not a blink of an eye later, Himura had been kicked out from the fight.

As the red-headed swordsman tumbled and rolled back, Susumu hurried towards him, but never made it. Okita's earth-shaking roar that raised the hairs on the back of his neck pierced the air, and for a second, he thought he saw a blur of blue zip from point to point, almost climbing half-way up a post before leaping down. Himura had also disappeared from where he had tumbled to. Had he not been familiar with two of the three attackers' style upon their opponent, he wouldn't have seen what happened next.

“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Souryuusen!”

The elegant yet deadly fast arc of Himura's sakabatou being drawn as he slid in between Okita's _Sandanzuki_ and Okita's opponent and first knocked Okita off balance. As the arc continued upwards that was followed by the sheathe being withdrawn from Himura's himo, the sakabatou missed Okita's opponent by a hairsbreadth, but the sheathe did not, and knocked the man to the side. Just as Susumu saw the blow land, there was a sudden appearance of the blue blur behind the opponent, slicing down towards the opponent's back. That blow from the blue-dressed swordsman never landed, but was close enough that it sliced hairs off of the opponent's head with the tip of the wakizashi also slicing into the edges of the man's clothing.

All three swordsman landed on the ground at the same time, as their opponent fell into an undignified heap, knocked out by Himura's sheathe. However, it was the coldly furious expression on Okita face, directed not at the knocked out opponent, but straight at Himura that kept him and the others from approaching. The third swordsman had the blankest of expressions upon his face, but Susumu could feel wariness coming off of him in waves as the three slowly stood back up.

“Oki--” Tetsu began, fearfully taking a step forward. Susumu stuck out an arm to prevent his friend from approaching – he could sense that this was not going to end well.

“You promised your sister, Okita-dono,” Himura stated in a decidedly neutral, if not hard, tone.

Surprisingly, or rather a bit unsettling in Susumu's opinion, the cold expression was replaced by a wolfish grin and did not match the polite tone as he heard the swordsman say, “Very well.”

“Shirou-sensei,” one of the policemen said, approaching. “It is as you said – we've never seen such weapons in the stations before. How did you know?”

The unsettling grin disappeared, as Okita turned his attention to the officer, saying, “Lieutenant Fujita and these people here--” Okita gestured to all of them, save for the knocked out enemy swordsman, “--are a part of this investigation. If you would please, bind and gag those who have been knocked out for the moment. We do not know if they will turn upon the city again when they wake up. That particular swordsman as well, but bring him to the nearest substation. We shall see if answers can be found when he wakes up.”

“Yes, sir,” the officer said, before gesturing to his men to start tying up the unconscious civilians and policemen alike.

While strange as it was, seeing an old comrade take charge, especially since it brought back memories of the days spent with the Shinsengumi, Susumu was worried. Sweat was beading upon Okita's forehead, more than what the cold wind would dry out for perspiration. The swordsman was forcibly holding back the symptoms of his affliction and the exhaustion that came with it, seemingly not allowing himself to rest. He took a step forward, but the man immediately held up a hand to prevent him from saying word of caution.

Instead, Okita said, “Saitou and I encountered children being smuggled in a boxcar on the train. The carriages were separated and on my way back, I encountered several policemen whom I determined to not be under the influence of the Chrysanthemum Guards, and enlisted them to help me get the children to safety.”

“How can you be sure?” the young swordsman dressed in shades of blue clothing asked.

“I am sure,” was the curt answer.

It was not a complete answer, but Susumu did not doubt the former First Unit Captain's words and instead, asked about a more pressing concern, namely, “Chrysanthemum Guards? That's--”

“Not our concern at the moment, Yamazaki-sensei,” Okita continued, pausing for a moment, looking as if he was about to let his willfully suppressed coughs get the better of him. That moment passed, and Susumu's frown got deeper as he became more concerned. “Saitou is on his way to Aomori. We should concern ourselves with the current situation – that is, alerting Tokyo to Sendai's predicament and sending the formerly kidnapped children back down to Tokyo.”

“Tetsu told my wife and I about the missing children, and the mess happening in Tokyo," Kai stated.  "He and Susumu are up here for the opium investigation via Aoshi. There are some children on the ship that Tetsu and I were investigating, but I thought they were a part of the crew – likely powder boys. No sign of opium or manifests of it.”

“We will need to check all ships, that we do,” Himura stated.

“Carriages?” he suggested after a moment of silence.

“There has to be some easier way we can send the children back down to Tokyo other than borrowing carriages,” Tetsu spoke up, looking worriedly at both Himura and Okita. “I don't know who or what these Chrysanthemum Guards are, but surely some ship captain here--”

“After what happened, we don't know who we can trust at the docks, that we don't, Tetsunosuke,” Himura stated, gently interrupting him.

“You don't, but I do,” a new voice spoke up as all of them turned towards a dark alleyway, hearing a person approach. “I can help you.”

The dark shadow cast into the alleyway by the rising sun painted the approaching person to be tall, taller than a normal Japanese person, but Susumu could not sense anything amiss with the approaching person. There was, however, a second pair of footsteps, shuffling in nature, that followed the first. He heard and saw Himura ready himself, while Okita immediately stepped in front of Tetsu. Susumu stood next to Tetsu, ready to snatch or knock him out of the way. Kai was reaching towards the ground to pick up the small throwing knives that had been dropped, while the young man dressed in blue was gripping his wakizashi in an even tighter manner than he already held it.

As the stranger stepped into the nearest lamp light, Susumu could not help but gape slightly at just how _tall_ the man was – almost as tall, if not taller than what he remembered Hijikata to be. However, the man had a shock of spiky grey-white hair with black roots, and wore a set of small circular spectacles on the bridge of his nose. He was wearing a thin, sleeveless dark shirt with baggy Chinese-looking pants, and had two enormous arm bracers around his forearms. The shoes that he wore looked like they were wrapped with sealskin and proofed against water.

The old man who plodded behind him wore a floppy straw hat, threadbare yukata, and sandals on his feet, looking none the colder for it. The strangest thing about the man was the fact that he too wore circular spectacles upon the bridge of his nose, and had an unusually long, white beard and full mustache. Susumu had seen several of the Meiji leaders grow beards and mustaches, but none as successful or as long as the one that this old man wore.

It was Himura's rather audible gasp that briefly tore his eyes away from the two, as he saw the ex-hitokiri's eyes widen in recognition at one of the persons. “Enishi...” Himura whispered.

 

~*~*~*~

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 09 Aug 2016: I've resumed writing this fic and am determined to complete it before the 25th of October of this year. I sincerely apologize for not updating in a while and also apologize if several, if not all the characters are a bit OOC. It was slightly tough for me to transition between an American Revolution fanfic and characters to a post-Japanese Revolution fanfic and characters. However, I hope to recapture most of the characters' personalities by the next chapter.

**Chapter 13**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

“Enishi...”

Last Kenshin had seen of his estranged brother-in-law was in irons, being led by Saitou and the Tokyo Police Force to the boat that would take him back to Tokyo. Then Aoshi had reported that Enishi seemed to have miraculously escaped, with Saitou not even bothering to pursue him, seeing it a waste of time and resources. He had wondered where Enishi had gone, but now, seeing him again brought back a fresh cascade of painful memories.

They were not memories of Tomoe or of the bloody revolution – he had made peace with himself on that account, but of his battle against Enishi last year; of how he almost lost himself to despair and the woman he loved. Pushing the memories to the side, he saw Okita hold up a hand to halt the policemen from approaching as Enishi and the one he knew as Gramps in the Village of the Fallen, stopped before them.

“The captain of the _Hyouzan Maru_ is one that I am familiar with, Battousai.” Enishi stated. “We have room and some time to take whatever cargo you need transported to Tokyo before sailing to America.”

There were so many questions Kenshin wanted to ask of his brother-in-law, but could not bring himself to. Instead, he saw the brief nod of agreement from Gramps – Enishi was offering to help without any questions but would only offer once. “We thank you for your generosity, Enishi,” he said after a moment, bowing slightly. “However, we do believe that there may still be more children that have been abducted and hidden on several ships here in the docks. If you would please, allow us some time to search for them?”

“We set sail tomorrow morning,” was all Enishi said before turning and walked back down the alleyway that he had emerged from.

However, Gramps lingered for a moment before bowing towards him, saying, “Thank you, Himura-san, for what you did last year. Please do not worry. Both my son and I will see that these children make it safely back to their families before we sail across the ocean.”

* * *

_Year: Past, Early Summer 1868_

 

It was not where he had planned to go after leaving the Shinsengumi, but he had been forced to head southwards upon finding suspicious people at the western port of Toyama. Still, being caught as an intruder and roughly hauled into the relative safety of a compound was better than being caught by the Chrysanthemum Guards who had and still were pursuing him. It was much too late for him to return to the Wolves of Mibu, and even if they miraculously welcomed him back, he did not want anything more to do with such a bloody and vicious group of trained killers.

“Katsura-san,” one of the guards stated as he was dragged and dumped into the ground in a rather undignified heap by his captors. “We found this man lurking around, looking suspicious.”

Two flintlock rifles were shoved none-too-kindly into his back as he managed to pick himself off the dusty ground and sit on his knees, looking up at the rather gentle and handsome face man who had paused in whatever he had been doing. There was a woman standing near him, though it was the revolver in her hands that startled him. He recognized that revolver, or at least the make of it – it was similar to the one that Sakamoto had shown him time and time again whenever they had met to discuss the translations.

“Suspicious?” the man named Katsura stated, looking a bit baffled. “He looks quite ordinary to me.”

“He had this on him when he tripped and fell on the Shiroukawa Bridge,” another guardsman stated as Tatsu saw the man stroll forward and place the revolver that he had tucked into his sleeves of his yukata, thinking that it would have been safe there. He saw Katsura take the revolver and examine it, but it was the woman who suddenly stepped forward and snatched the weapon out of the man's hands.

“Where did you get this?” she immediately demanded, shaking the revolver, though Katsura held out an arm to prevent her from stepping off the walkway and shoving the weapon in front of his, Tatsu's, face.

Painfully aware of the rifles still pressed into his back, if not a little more than they had been a moment ago, he said, “Uh... a friend gave it to me as a gift.”

“Who?” the woman demanded as Katsura nodded towards the guardsmen and they pushed the rifles a little harder into his back.

“Sakamoto Ryouma,” he hastily stated. “Okay? Sakamoto Ryouma of the Tosa clan! He told me to find a man named Katsura Kogoro if I ever needed help and he was not there to provide it!”

“Ryouma,” both the woman and Katsura stated at the same time, looking at each other before the man raised an arm to indicate that the guards were to remove the rifles. “He's dead,” Katsura stated after a moment.

“I know,” Tatsu answered. “I--”

He never got to complete his statement as a moment later, two rapid shots, so close to his ears that all he heard was a ringing noise filled the air. The two guards who had been poking their rifles into him pitched forward, blood seeping out of their wounds that had been wrought by bullets. However, the startled look that appeared on Katsura and the woman's face was short-lived as he was in the midst of turning to see who had exactly shot the guards.

Six men, standing just inside of the entrance to the compound, dressed in simple clothing that indicated they were farmers or fishermen were holding flintlocks – two of those weapons already smoking from being discharged. He knew then that they were not ordinary workers – they were Chrysanthemum Guard members, and they had finally caught up to him. The third guard who had taken Tatsu's revolver from him lunged towards the assailants, dropping the revolver and drawing his sword.

At the same time, Tatsu threw himself towards the flying revolver, just as he caught a glimpse of one of the Chrysanthemum Guard members bring his flintlock to bear upon him. Briefly squeezing his eyes closed just as he wrapped his hands around the dropped revolver, he was not fast enough to bring the weapon to bear upon the man. He felt a searing bloom of pain lance through him, sending him careening into the ground. The sound of rushing waters mixed in with the echoing boom of the flintlock rifle being discharged filled his ears.

Crashing painfully into the ground, the white-hot agonizing sensation of being shot and bleeding out that was spreading through him sent him spiraling into darkness.

* * *

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

_You promised your sister._

Okita tried to clear his throat without making too much noise as he glanced over towards where Tetsu, Himura, and Seta were sitting in the small infirmary attached to the main station. As nurses carefully bandaged up the injuries that the two swordsmen, and Tetsu had received during the fight at the docks, he glanced back down at his own hands for a moment. Himura's words still echoed in his mind, but he knew that during that fight against his nephew, had Himura not intercepted with his feint and knocked him, Okita, off of his attack, then Kiyoshi would have been killed.

He did not fault Himura for doing what he had done, but Okita also did not spare any remorseful thoughts towards the fact that he had nearly killed his nephew. What words had been said to cause the police and apparently the populace around the docks before the police had arrived to attack Himura and the others were said by Kiyoshi. He didn't know whether or not that those 'trigger' words, seemingly implanted into the minds of the populace through alleged opiate means that were baffling even the smartest doctors they had, had caused his nephew to make the innocent attack them. However, what he knew and understood from the explanation that Yamazaki had briefly given them about the opium issue, along with his own experiences under different types of herbal medication, was that this type of mental illness relied on possibly weeks or months, if not years of small ingestion and careful word manipulation by agents.

And that provided him a very important insight as to possibly how so many people were able to be controlled, but only for a brief amount of time. Even in the short while that he, Himura, and Seta had been waiting between the small infirmary and station, watching the results of the concoction that Yamazaki had received from Dr. Takani in Tokyo via hawk message, the people affected were looking quite better. However, there was one particular patient, Kiyoshi, who was residing in an isolated cell within the station, that seemed not to react to the possible medicinal 'cure'.

It was Yamazaki that Okita was mainly waiting for, for Kiyoshi's apparent lack of reaction was the first thing that allowed him to realize that perhaps not all of those who served these mysterious Chrysanthemum Guards – as Tetsu had briefly told them before more the more pressing concern of brewing and distributing the concoction took over – served them willingly. He had seen a glimmer of that willingness in just how his nephew fought against him; blade and mind sharp with clarity and without any indication that he was being forced to conduct such atrocities. In a way, it reminded himself of what he had been like during his days in the Shinsengumi – headstrong and determined to protect the peace. It was also similar to what he remembered fighting against Himura during the revolution – no reservations or hesitations as he had caught a glimpse of, when they had fought Himura's doppelganger at that waterfall near Kyoto.

That glimmer of unreserved _ken-ki_ was the only reason why he had considered breaking his promise to his sister – he could not send such a man back to her, even if he was her treasured son. A man such as what Kiyoshi had become in the past eleven, twelve years since the end of the revolution would only break his sister and brother-in-law's wills further, and he did not want to do that to them. He felt that it was better to think their son and possibly their daughter, if she was the same as Kiyoshi was, dead – just like they thought he was dead. All he could give them now was closure from the pain and suffering they had endured for there was no revolution to be had that would change them – he, along with Saitou would make sure that no bloody revolution happened ever again.

The door leading to the cells within the station opened and closed, as the familiar presence of Yamazaki emerged from the dank place. Turning slightly as he glanced behind, he saw a somber expression upon the doctor's face. “Yamazaki-sensei,” he greeted, sensing that his words and shift in stance had alerted the other three to the doctor's arrival.

“He hasn't been drugged or shows any sign of taking opium,” the doctor stated. “He is quite clean.”

“So he is doing this of his own will then,” he said, feeling the need to state the obvious, to make it known and confirmed for himself that this was the path in life that his nephew has chosen. “How long until the paralysis wears off?”

“Not for another five hours,” the doctor answered. It was unfortunate that as soon as Kiyoshi had woken up, he had tried to bite through his own tongue, similar to the bandit they had captured on the night of the children's abductions. “He's sufficiently gagged for now, but I've told the guards watching him about the pressure points they can use to induce paralysis again if he manages to bite through the gag.”

“I will not send him back to my sister and brother-in-law in the manner he is now,” he stated, shaking his head slightly.

“Okita-sensei,” Yamazaki said after a moment, “I don't presume to know your personal life, especially of your relation to your sister and brother-in-law, but from doctor to patient, I think the best thing that you can do at this moment is to just talk to your nephew. Maybe something will get through to him, maybe it won't, but trust me when I say, even the simplest of words such as a kind greeting, might heal minds.”

“We'll take care of things around here and continue to search for any other children that might be on the ships, Okita-san,” he heard Tetsu speak up as he heard his friend hop off the bench he had been sitting upon and walk over. “I remember how you guys used to lead investigations, so how hard can it be to lead one right now?”

The not-so-subtle cough that was forced with 'difficult' that Yamazaki gave at Tetsu's rather carefree statement brought a small smile to his face. Not that this particular investigation was anything amusing for it was far from it, but the fact that there was so much confidence brimming within Tetsu that it greatly reminded him of the days when their lives had been a little simpler but no less chaotic than now.

“You do not need to worry, Okita-dono,” Himura spoke up as he glanced back to see a half-exasperated look appear on the ex-hitokiri's face as he glanced back towards Tetsu to see him sauntering out into the main area of the station. “We shall provide updates as these children are found, that we will.”

“And what of Yukishirou Enishi-san's offer to you, Himura-san?” he quietly asked. The flash of surprise that eclipsed the swordsman's face was gone as quickly as it came. “I recognized the old man with him for I had met him before long ago in Edo. As soon as Yukishirou-san mentioned the familial connection, I knew then who he was, though I had heard that he had possibly died during the chaos of the revolution.”

“If you are asking if he is trustworthy, then he is. We had our differences in the past, but that has been put to the side,” Himura answered.

Okita inclined his head slightly, accepting the answer, however vague it was. He was not curious as to what conflicts Himura and Yukishirou had engaged in for it was almost natural to assume that an Ishinshishi member and the high-born samurai Yukishirou family would have violently crossed paths in Kyoto. However, now that they were in a more peaceful age, those transgressions had been put to the side, much like his and Saitou's conflicts with the Hitokiri Battousai were done and gone. All he had wanted to verify was that they had someone they could trust to bring the abducted children back down to Tokyo in the coming days.

Saitou had explicitly stated to not trust anyone in Sendai, and that had included all of the police – the ones who were supposed to be the most trustworthy. For the first and last time, Okita would never make that mistake ever again, even though he had found policemen that had not undergone the insidious opium drugging that many of their compatriots had gone through. Going forward, he had to fully dive back into the deadly and sharp instincts that he had honed in Kyoto during the revolution and trust only that. He could not afford to allow himself to live in peaceful times, not if he wanted to rescue and bring his son home, alive.

* * *

Night had long fallen, and though there was still much to do, they were currently sitting in the privacy of Kai and Hiroko's home, attentively listening to what Sakamoto Oryou had to say. After they had scoured every single ship that was docked at the port, along with searching the cargo warehouses and rounded up all the missing children they could find, it was Hiroko who had found him and told him about Sakamoto's insistence in the meeting. Susumu was not happy that his still-recovering patient had insisted upon this meeting, but after what he had initially learned about the Chrysanthemum Guards, he knew that the others had to know.

While the expressions of Himura and Okita remained quite neutral, he could see a clear frown and anger growing upon Tetsu's face as Oryou continued to tell her story that started from long before the Bakumatsu had even begun. Sitting silently a little further away from everyone gathered was Seta Soujirou, and though Susumu occasionally saw the young man glance towards Oryou, he seemed to find some peace in staring at one of the many lanterns that had been brought into the room.

A part of Susumu was still surprised that such a young man had attempted to taken on the Chrysanthemum Guards on his own, but the other part of him was not. He himself had been only fourteen when he had left for Kyoto to serve as one of the shinobi for the Shinsengumi. Everyone back then and even now, still had strong feelings about things that affected the country – strong enough feelings to think they could take on the world until proven wrong.

“...shortly after that incident at the Hamaguri gates, Ryouma approached and recruited the services and skills of Tatsunosuke. They worked on decoding the documents in the lockbox in secret until Ryouma was killed,” Sakamoto was saying.

“I've heard enough of your lies about my brother,” Tetsu suddenly growled, silencing whatever else Sakamoto was going to say.

“Please, Tetsunosuke,” Himura said before Tetsu could even get another word out, “Please just listen to what Oryou-dono has to say. I am sure that your brother did not intentionally betray you, that I am--”

“You know nothing of how I _feel_!” Tetsu hissed, glaring at Himura.

Susumu was sure he was not the only one to notice that even before Tetsu's declaration had finished, Okita had already placed a firm hand on his scabbard that was sitting by his side, ready to draw his sword out and possibly stop both men from getting into a fight. While he knew that Okita was Tetsu's friend and would most likely not hurt him, the demeanor that the former First Unit Captain showed at this moment cast his thoughts towards the doubtful.

For his part, Himura looked quite unruffled by Tetsu's words, and instead, calmly and quietly said, “Please trust that this one knows what you are feeling at the moment. This one too, had been betrayed by someone close, but the intentions behind that betrayal were to stop others from killing this one. You may think that your brother betrayed you, Tetsunosuke,” Himura continued to say, “but please, listen to Oryou-dono before you judge. Given what little this one knows of your brother, is he not a peaceful man? Would he not have wanted to invite violence upon your doorsteps while you were in the Shinsengumi?”

“He never wanted to fight, to learn how to use a sword, to learn how to even shoot a rifle,” Tetsu answered in a short tone as the fire in his eyes died. “He never wanted me to join the Shinsengumi, and _he_ only joined because it was the only job he could find – to be an accountant and to keep us alive. He didn't even want to avenge our parents! He was weak. He was a coward--”

“And he left the protection of the one group that had the ability to keep him safe from harm, from being killed or abducted by the Chrysanthemum Guards,” Sakamoto spoke up in a gentle tone, sensing that the atmosphere was now calmer to proceed. “Your brother left after fighting at Koushuu-Katsuunuma to stop the Guards from hounding you and the others of your group. The knowledge that he had decoded for Ryouma was supposed to have brought both the rebelling southern samurai and the Shogun to the negotiation table. Instead, with the war escalating, Katsura-san hid both of us, hoping that when the fighting finally stopped, he would be able to properly understand just why Ryouma was working with a Shinsengumi member with such unique skills.”

“He never did get that chance, did he not?” Himura quietly asked. “The weight of rebuilding a country is never as easy as it is tearing down one.”

“Yes,” the woman said, nodding. “And by that time, both of us thought it more safe to just remain hidden and live our lives out. I know the dangers that hunted us. What Ryouma and Tatsunosuke found would have only worked to ensure peace during those times. But now, with a relative peace across the country, it seemed no longer relevant to bring about such a knowledge.”

“Except that these Chrysanthemum Guards think otherwise,” Susumu spoke up, shaking his head slightly. “They were after that knowledge, because it contains something that could compromise them, correct?”

“Yes,” Sakamoto said. “Specifically, an order and details behind it that were to the 12th Master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Hiko Seijuurou.”

“They're going to or already have tortured him,” Tetsu spoke up, nearly grinding his words out in anger, as Susumu saw a shocked expression eclipse both Himura and Seta, both of the momentarily speechless at Sakamoto's revelation. However, it seemed that Tetsu did not notice or did not care as he said, “You may be my brother's wife, but I doubt that you actually care enough about him—”

“Tetsu!” Okita immediately interrupted, nearly hissing his name.

“--to even tell them where it is!” Tetsu continued, eyes ablaze with anger. “You condemned my brother to pain and agony, while you escaped! Where is it?! Where is this so-called lock box?! I'm going to give it to them and get my brother back!”

Susumu knew two, possibly three remarkable women in his life, one of them being his long-time friend, Aya, another being Ayumu. Both held themselves tall and proud in the face of such adversity and threats to their lives. But to see Sakamoto Oryou also not bow to the very threat that Tetsu carried within his stance and eyes surprised him. His first impression of her over the summer had been that of a demure, gentle, and polite woman – not a proud firebrand like Ayumu, Saitou Tokio or Aya.

“I don't know, Tetsunosuke-san,” she admitted. “Your brother sent the lock box off with a trusted rider before we were abducted. I only escaped because of an agent whom Yamagata Aritomo-sama sent. I was a liability to your brother. If I am not there, they have nothing to hold against him to make him speak. Last I know, Yamagata's agent is still searching for him. Hakodate, specifically, Goryokaku is an enormous fort—”

“Hakodate?!” Tetsu whispered, looking quite horrified as the anger all but disappeared from his eyes. If his friend weren't already sitting, Susumu was sure that Tetsu would have collapsed even further.

“Tetsu-kun,” he heard Okita murmur. Despair shone in Tetsu's eyes, and Susumu was sure that far away and painful memories came rushing back at the mention of the fact that Tatsunosuke was being held at the infamous fort. “You read the details of the orders, did you not, Sakamoto-san?” Okita politely asked, turning his attention to the woman, his tone as neutral as ever.

“I did,” Sakamoto answered, before flicking and glance over to where Seta was sitting, looking quite concerned, though Susumu thought that it was more towards the contents of what the woman had read than of Tetsu's state of mind. “You're a part of the Seta clan, correct?” Sakamoto asked, directing her question at Seta. “You look similar to the leader of the Guards.”

“I was a part of that organization, up until five months ago,” Seta answered, a hesitant smile upon his face that banished the concerned look. “If you wish, I will block my ears and close my eyes if you want.”

“It is not necessary,” the woman said, shaking her head slightly before turning her attention to Himura, saying, “When Ryouma first told me that Katsura-san had employed a young swordsman wielding Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, I feared that perhaps the Guards were finally making themselves known and were no longer content on hiding within the shadows. I thought they had taken sides, until Katsura-san had reassured both Ryouma and I that it was not true and that you wielded your sword to bring about a swift end to the fight. My own doubts and fears of Ryouma and Katsura-san's words were never realized because you disappeared. Though that was short-lived for a few months later, Tatsunosuke arrived, as did members of the Guards that had been hunting him.”

She then directed her attention to Okita, saying, “They were hunting for the lockbox, which Ryouma had given to me for safekeeping before he left for Kyoto the last time. Owing to my own curiosity, I took a look at the contents and the first document that had been decoded was the orders given to the 12th Master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu: to assassinate and replace the Emperor of Japan. Notes that my husband left in a separate document stated that the order was not decoded by Tatsunosuke, but rather by a man named Ichimura Ryuunosuke. I found out from Tatsunosuke that Ryuunosuke was his father.

“The details within the orders had the schedule of events that the Emperor was to be engaged in for a three month period that would allow the assassin to decide which date was the most ideal to carry out the mission. There were also additional details, such as guardsmen abilities, weapons proficiency, and age, within the order to have the successor apprentice of the 12th Master to utilize his skills and cause a distraction on the appointed date to ensure the success of his master.”

“Considering how well guarded the Emperor's palace was even during the revolution, then both the master and apprentice--” Kai began, stroking his chin in thought.

“Successor apprentice,” Sakamoto insisted. “The order details were precise on the characters describing of who was to undertake the mission. They did mention other apprentices, but cautioned against taking more than the successor apprentice and the next strongest apprentice on the mission.”

“Then the 12th Master only took his successor apprentice with him,” Susumu heard Himura quietly speak up. “Though this one knows not what happened, this one can safely assume that the eventual 13th Master, the former successor apprentice, never allowed his Master to carry out the order.”

“And eventually negotiated a truce with the Chrysanthemum Guards,” Seta finished up.

“Then why? Why go through all this?” Kai wondered out loud. “It seems that they obviously know that the government and those who protect it are weakened by what happened over the summer. Why are they trying to abduct children, introduce opium, and show their hand in it? They know that there are people after them, investigating them, so why come out of the shadows? If they are as powerful as you've all described and I've seen with my own two eyes, then they could have easily stormed and taken the seat of the government power. There is no need to continue to flit within the shadows and attract this much attention.”

Susumu was not the only one to glance over at Seta who shook his head, saying, “They had similar aspirations as Shishio-sama to destroy the government, but I am as confused as you are as to why they do not outright take that power.”

The silence that hung around the room was quite palpable, but after a moment, Susumu heard Tetsu clear his throat as he said in a more calm manner, “Maybe... maybe it isn't about seizing power. Maybe its about controlling those who have power. They've existed and were active well before they left Kyoto and the war to its own devices, right, Sakamoto-san?”

“From what I read in the order details and from what Ryouma and your brother speculated, yes,” the woman answered.

“When...” Tetsu began, though Susumu saw him swallow and pause for a moment before plunging on, “when we all agreed to form the Ezo Republic back then, there were several trading outposts that Buruneto-san and I traveled to. It was to negotiate trade and the like – in order for us to survive the winter and properly arm ourselves for the spring invasion that we knew was coming. I knew enough English and Russian to roughly translate what Hijikata-san and the others wanted known to the traders, but not enough French. Because we were desperate for supplies, they had subtle ways of controlling aspects of what we received. Buruneto-san told me to watch out for things that like when negotiating. Had we gotten another year to properly arm and supply ourselves, I think that perhaps we would have had a real fighting chance to push against the Imperialists... though I suspect that the Russian and Dutch traders would have exerted a greater influence within our government. Perhaps that is how these Chrysanthemum Guards are.”

“So you're saying that what work they've been doing for the last hundreds of years was disrupted just because the right people were at the right time in Tokyo to witness it or unfortunately, be captured? And perhaps let go because they discovered that they attracted the wrong kind of attention?” Kai speculated.

“Maybe?” Tetsu shrugged. “I never understood until thinking about it right now why Buruneto-san told us to cut off all trade with the Russian outpost after the first symptoms of blue-black lips from the poison that was spread around Hakodate first appeared. A few weeks after that, I heard that all people from that particular Russian outpost had mysteriously died. The 'ambassador' they sent a couple of weeks after that report stated that he wanted to reopen negotiations and was...groveling while apologizing. It was embarrassing for us and them. This whole Chrysanthemum Guards thing feels incredibly similar to the days of the Ezo Republic.”

Tetsu fell silent, and though Susumu was quite surprised at just how calm his friend had been when speaking, it had not escaped his notice that Tetsu's hands were in tightly balled fists. Whether from anger at the abduction of his brother, the forced chase he had been sent on that was tied to the opium, the memories that sat too close to his mind, or the revelation that Tatsunosuke had been working with a known and infamous Ishinshishi member, he dared not ask.

“I will continue on to Aomori on tomorrow's train after the children depart, that I will,” Himura spoke up in the silence. “We know now that the bandits, along with those of the Guards are traveling up to the port to escape. Yahiko and the others are also headed that way and it is my hope that this one shall arrive before they do.”

“You will not travel alone, Himura-san,” Okita stated. “This is more than just abducted children and an opium ring that allows hidden commands to be planted within a person. The Chrysanthemum Guards must be stopped.”

Susumu found himself, along with Tetsu, and Seta, nodding their heads in agreement. “Hiroko and I will stay,” Kai said. “If there is any change with the affected people here, we'll send a message down to Aoshi and up to you as well, Susumu. And if Takani-sensei finds out how exactly so many people have been ingesting opium without showing the usual symptoms, we'll let you know as well. We'll be the relay.”

“Sakamoto-dono?” Himura politely asked after a moment. “There is room on the ship and it would be safer if you traveled down to Tokyo with the children.”

“I will, Himura-san,” the woman answered. “I intend to tell Yamagata-san everything that I've told you as soon as we arrive.”

“I'll see that Reika is made aware of your arrival, Sakamoto-san,” Susumu said. “She'll be able to protect you as she did this past summer. You won't be abducted again.”

Though he saw her nod to his words, he tried to remain as confident as he could. During the summer, they only thought that Kitamura Suzu would be after the life of Tetsu's family, including his brother and sister-in-law. Now, after witnessing the destruction and ease in which the Guards had to manipulate people into doing their bidding, he hoped that one shinobi bodyguard was going to be enough. If Ichimura Tatsunosuke could not be rescued or was killed, Sakamoto Oryou was going to be their only hope in fully exposing the Chrysanthemum Guards.

 

~*~*~*~

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Year: Past, Summer 1868_

 

 _I'm...not dead?_ was the first thought that crossed Tatsu's mind as soon as he became aware that the faint sounds that he was hearing were of the summer cicadas and crickets that caused a rather noisy racket. The second thing he became aware of as he clawed his way back from the darkness and forced his eyes open was that it was quite sticky and humid. Snapping his eyes open as he heaved in a breath, he felt himself hitch in breath as acute pain lanced across his body, causing him to wince and involuntarily groan.

“Ah, you're awake,” a kind voice said near him as he blinked and tried to swallow to wet his parched throat. Looking around, he saw that he was in an open-aired room that had several shouji partitions slid open to allow what little cool air the nighttime of a sticky summer could provide, to enter. There was a garden beyond the partitions and walkway, but it was the shuffling of someone near him that drew his attention back to the softly lantern-lit room.

He looked over to his right to see that it was the man named Katsura that the guards had hauled him in front of, who was sitting in seiza near his head. There was a daisho pair sitting next to the man, though a flintlock rifle was also sitting next to the sword pair. Beyond that, sitting further away and nearer towards his feet was a stony-looking woman, the same woman that he had seen snatching his revolver from Katsura. Both revolvers were lying on the tatami mats in front of her as she sat quite still in seiza.

“Though the circumstances were not ideal to our meeting, your actions in trying to stop the attackers has granted you some reprieve, especially after being shot in the stomach. I am curious though – your actions seemed to have indicated that you know who they were.”

“I'm sorry,” he croaked out, trying to get up but with the pain radiating from his stomach, he remained lying down. “But those men, they were after me. The blame has been laid on several people, but I know for sure that they were part of an organization that killed my friend, Sakamoto Ryouma for the knowledge he had about certain things. Because they somehow knew that I associated with him in secret regarding the same knowledge that they do not want revealed, they also targeted me. I'm sorry that I brought them to your doorstep, sir.”

“So it is true then,” the man cryptically stated, tapping his chin with a finger, looking out towards the garden before looking back down at him. “I am Katsura Kogoro. Sakamoto-san was a dear friend of mine, and so if he told you to look for me, it must be important.”

Tatsu stared at the kind-looking man in disbelief. From the way Ryouma had described the man, especially concerning swordsmanship, leadership, and negotiation skills, he had expected Katsura Kogoro to be as brutish but inspiring as Hijikata. This kind, gentle-looking man with a diplomatic-statesman look was a far cry from what he had imagined Katsura to be. “Katsura-san,” he whispered, then realized that he was displaying terrible manners and briefly shook his head to clear his thoughts. “I apologize. My name is Ichimura Tatsunosuke.”

“Ichimura,” Katsura stated, looking pensive before asking, “and might you be related to Ichimura Tetsunosuke of the Shinsengumi?”

He glanced away, staring at the barely illuminated garden, saying, “Yes. I was a member of the Shinsengumi. I left them because I could no longer abide by their ways. I know not where my brother is or whether or not he is still alive at this point.”

“Your brother's fierce reputation precedes him. Last I heard, he had made it to Edo,” Katsura continued, though not in an unkind tone. “Sakamoto-san used to talk about you and your brother quite a lot whenever he visited me. He told me that he had tried to recruit both of you for the Naval Training Center but failed. I know not the details of what he was doing, closely associating with a member of the Shinsengumi, but I knew enough to understand that it was not to betray us or our ideals, but to possibly bring a more peaceful solution between us Imperialists and the rebel Shogunate forces. His death brought that to an end.”

Tatsu returned his attention to Katsura, surprised that there was no anger or scorn in the man's eyes. “I believe that this peaceful means of ending the conflict between the two sides can still be achieved. All I need is to find and present the documents that Sakamoto-san and I had been working on, to both sides. It can be done. The faster they come to the negotiation table, the quicker peace and those hunting me will be exposed from the shadows they hide in.”

He saw the man frown before glancing over towards the woman. “Unfortunately,” Katsura began, focusing his attention back on Tatsu, “those same men who had been targeting you are targeting Sakamoto-san's wife as well.” The man gestured towards the woman, saying, “This is Sakamoto Oryou. The revolver you had on yourself was a part of the pair that she had gifted to her husband.”

Tatsu felt his breath hitch again as he gave a start, casting his eyes over towards the woman and feeling a rush of embarrassment flush from the tip of his toes to his face. “I am utterly and sincerely sorry, Sakamoto-san,” he stammered. “Had I known that it was a gift from you to your husband, I would have never accepted the weapon that your husband presented to me as a means to protect myself. Please... please forgive my transgressions.”

The woman remained silent for several long, uncomfortable moments, but it was Katsura who brought his attention back to the matter at hand, saying, “Knowing the danger that hunts both of you now, since we have also received unwanted visitors to this province ever since Sakamoto-san was assassinated, I feel that it is prudent that we spirit both of you and those documents that Sakamoto-san had entrusted the two of you to keep secret, away. There are only so many safe houses here that I can move an injured man and a headstrong woman to, without attracting too much attention.”

“But if we can expose the documents--” Tatsu began.

“At the moment, we cannot,” Katsura cut him off with a stern tone. “I am afraid to be the bearer of bad news, for you remind me greatly of Sakamoto-san, especially with regards to his outlook in life and with this revolution, but blood is running high within both the Imperialists and the rebels. Blood will beget more blood in the coming months, and this will not end until the rebels surrender. When that may be, I do not know, but perhaps when we finally have peace, then we can finally see what both you and Sakakmoto-san have uncovered.”

He wanted to argue against that logic, but even as he opened his mouth, he knew that it was futile to do so. What the man had stated was the truth and damn the heavens above, he had seen it with his own eyes – from the days of Ikedaya until he had left the Shinsengumi after Koshuu-Katsuunuma. Every samurai, no matter what class they were, was out for blood. For revenge, for glory, for peace, for justice – they had reasons for their actions to kill those who opposed them, however trifle those reasons were. The time for a more peaceful solution had died when Sakamoto Ryouma had been assassinated.

“I... understand,” he stated at long last, “and will accept the protection that you generously offer, Katsura-san. Thank you.”

* * *

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

_Aomori..._

 

“Argh!”

Misao heard Yahiko's frustrated groan and kick of a pebble down the alleyway of this bustling port town, but did not glance back and instead, continued to watch the street that ran across the main docks for any signs of the people they had been pursuing. It was quite cold up in the busiest northern port of the main island, and the chilly breeze that accompanied the dried dead leaves, blowing them around, was not helping. Had she known that she would have traveled up this far north, she would have brought thicker and warmer clothes. For now, she had to make do with the scraps of cloth that she, Yuki, and Yahiko had stolen last night to keep themselves somewhat warm in their search today.

Thankfully, it was not raining, but with the clouds that hung low and grey across the skies, she was sure that the heavens would open up later. That would drive almost everyone in this port town indoors, for no one wanted to be out in the miserable, ice-cold rain, even to do business. Only the hearty and those who needed to get somewhere would remain out here. If that happened, then they would need to stay out, for she was sure that their quarry would not stop for a measly bout of rain. For now, she and the others had to content themselves with observing the comings and goings of men, women, and children at this place, hoping to catch a glimpse of those they pursued and hoping that they were not spotted by them.

“We're wasting time here, Misao,” Yahiko grumbled. “They're probably watching the port just as we are – they're not going to move or take a ship until night falls!”

“Its not _a_ ship, its _the_ ship,” Yuki stated as Misao glanced over to see her cousin frowning at Yahiko. “Its the only one that can make the crossing with the waters the way they are right now. Someone _has_ to bribe the captain or something to smuggle Eiji and the others that weren't left behind in Sendai onto that ship without the people here noticing.”

“Well, we should be trying to find Eiji and the others instead!” Yahiko insisted. “That way, those people won't have anyone to bring back to their masters--”

“Aho. It would give them incentive to come after all of you again, thereby perpetuating this ridiculous cycle of predator and prey.”

Misao was not the only one to yelp and freeze in fear as she and the other two turned from their watching of the docks to see Saitou Hajime, dressed in the blue uniform of the national police force walking towards them, casually puffing on a cigarette. “They already know you're watching them, at least for now,” the policeman spat out a moment later, stopping and looking at them with some disdain upon his face before briefly gesturing towards something behind him.

The three of them peeked behind the policeman and all Misao saw down the long alleyway was a tangle of legs and arms – two bodies, dressed in fishermen clothes, skewered through. Not only had she not heard the two or sense the two fishermen observing them, she had also not heard them being killed. While she knew that her skills as a shinobi were not as honed or as sharp as she thought they had been, she had thought that it was sharp enough from everything that had happened since Himura Kenshin had entered into hers and the Oniwbanshuu's lives. Apparently, she was proven wrong again.

However, rather than despair over it, she straightened herself and refused to react as she used to: whine, hem, and haw. She was still the _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu, even if she knew that it was now in name and did not have as much power as it used to command back in the day. It was not from the events that had happened over the summer to cause that power to wane, but her own understanding of the peace that her fellow shinobi wanted to encompass in their lives. They were already many years into the relatively peaceful Meiji era, and most did not want to remain attached to their previous lives.

“We're not leaving if that's what you want us to do, Saitou-san,” Yuki spoke up in a surprisingly respectful tone. “We've already come this far since being abducted and freed, and we're not going to back down from these people who've abducted countless of other children.”

Misao could not help but stare at her cousin in surprise, barely aware that Yahiko was wearing nearly the same expression – granted she knew that her cousin was a little more grown-up like than most boys she knew that were his age, but the words out of his mouth – they sounded quite mature for his age. Almost as if he were past fifteen and an adult. Between the summer and his moving to Tokyo, along with his actions in the face of such pressure during the past few weeks, he had grown – not in height but in what life had thrown at him – much faster than Yahiko who still rarely displayed bouts of childishness. Those words he spoke, Misao could have sworn that they were almost the same kind of words that she would think that Yuki's father would have spoken.

“I didn't expect someone raised as you were to,” Saitou answered after a moment, dropping his cigarette to the ground and quashing the remains with a heel. The former Shinsengumi captain glanced over at Misao and Yahiko, saying, “However, you two...”

“We're not leaving either!” Yahiko spoke up in an obstinate tone, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Good,” the policeman simply stated before taking a couple of steps past them and peered out into the docks. Misao saw him narrow his eyes slightly before returning to where he was, hand upon his sword at his side. Turning back towards them, Saitou stated, “Trust is a commodity that none can give us here. The enemy is everywhere so we have to move carefully. You are right in that they will not set sail until the gales have died. Therefore, to disrupt their plans, we will need to find the rest of the children. Fortunately, they and those who guard them were not hard to locate.”

“I told you so--” Yahiko began, but was abruptly cut off by Saitou who had not finished speaking.

“The three of you,” the policeman said, gesturing to all of them before pulling out a small map and handing it to them, to which Misao took it and unfolded it, “will go rescue the children.” She looked back up as the policeman paused for a moment, only to see those wolfish eyes were suddenly pinned on Yuki. The former Shinsengumi captain then stated, “I trust your sensei instilled certain discretion within your training after the summer?”

“Yes, he did, Saitou-san,” the boy answered with confidence, puzzling both Misao and Yahiko.

However, that was short lived as the policeman glanced over at Misao, saying, “Be aware of the policemen around here, they may or may not be actively working for them. The children should also be taken to the station once you free them. The next train arrives in less than two hours. I don't particularly care how you smuggle them on, but it's your duty to make sure those children are on the train when it leaves the station, Weasel-Girl.”

“All right--” Misao began with enthusiasm but then realized that the policeman had addressed her with that hated nickname. “Hey!”

Her protests fell short though, as to her annoyance, Saitou was already walking back down the alleyway, most likely going to seek out where the abductors were located and stop them. “Give it up, Misao,” she heard Yuki say as he patted her shoulder in sympathy. “At least we now have something to do other than sit here and wait.”

Irritated, but knowing that her cousin had a point, she glared once more at the retreating form of the policeman before 'harumph'ing and stalked off to go do something useful.

~~~

There was a time in which Saitou knew that he would have never asked mere children, much less two of the three in particular for help, but with resources at his disposal stretched incredibly thin, he had had no other choice. It was not that he cared about the children, even if Eiji was among those still captured, he needed those three out of the way. He was sure that the Battousai, along with Okita and the Seta boy would be making their way up to Aomori with all haste after wrapping up whatever was happening in Sendai.

He needed to count on the possibility that there was going to be destructive fighting happening in the port-town very soon. Even if his comrades were not here, as soon as the gale that was currently churning up rough seas across the Tsugaru Strait – enough so that no ferry could even cross to Hakodate – died, he knew that the Chrysanthemum Guards would be moving. He could not allow them to cross the strait and back into their stronghold.

Pulling out a cigarette from within his jacket pocket and a match, he frowned as he felt that there were only two left within the carton, not counting the one he had within his fingers. Though he had traveled to Aomori before, he never liked the cigarettes they sold in the region – it was much too light on the narcotics for his taste for he much preferred those sold in Yokohama, imported from America. Frowning slightly, he decided against smoking the last three that he had, for now, and placed both it and the match stick back into their proper places.

A soft growl of frustration escaped his lips, but rather than let it affect him, he let it seep into his awareness, honing it as he weaved his way around the streets and alleyways of the port-town. His destination was not far from where Weasel-Girl and the others were headed to, but where he was headed was a far more dangerous situation than what he had sent the children to. With their abilities, even the brat who studied Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, it would be enough to free the children. The fact that they were tenacious enough to continue their pursuit all the way up to this port-town was proof of that.

Still, his own hunt was not without its dangers, and if he timed it right, Saitou was sure that when he engaged the practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, help would not be far behind. A Wolf of Mibu was never without its pack whenever there was prey about.

~~~

“What did that bastard mean by that, 'instilling discretion in training'?” Misao heard Yahiko demand as the three of them hurried through crowded streets and alleyways towards the area where the location of the children had been indicated on the map.

“Nothing,” her cousin tightly answered.

Throughout their journey and chase to get up here, they had all gotten along in a relatively good manner, united by their goals, but now with a moment to breathe and prepare those strong bonds that she thought had developed between her cousin and Yahiko (the two united in both their age and overall goals in life), was not as strong as she had thought they were.

Sure Yahiko had grown a little more since she had last saw him, both in strength and in attitude, but she thought that the kid and her cousin were quite equal in swordsmanship skills. Both certainly seemed to have found some 'fun' in that commonality and showing what skills they had learned to each other by knocking out the bandits they pursued with some flourish. It seemed like a friendly competition to her, even though she had mostly been stuck with trying to clean up their mess during their pursuit. Now, the irritating policeman had to go and ruin that delicate balance by implying that Yuki had some hidden skills – skills that she had not even seen a speck of since they started this chase.

“Leave it,” she interfered. “Saitou is just trying to get us riled up because he needs us to help him. I bet he had to swallow his pride and all that just to ask us for help.”

“No,” Yahiko stubbornly answered, determined not to just let it go. “Your master, even with his alias in this day and age, was Shinsengumi. Specifically First Unit Captain. What the hell did Saitou mean? Are you _not_ learning Tennen Rishin Ryu? Are you learning something else?”

“I _am_ learning it,” Yuki hissed, abruptly stopping, glaring at Yahiko with such cold eyes that she had not thought possible for him to show. A chill ran through her, for those eyes were nearly of the same look that she remembered seeing upon her aunt during the shinobi attack in Kyoto. “I just did not truly start learning _it_ until recently. I haven't used any specific techniques taught to me while we were pursuing the bandits – my master... my father had forbidden me from doing so unless it was to only spar against him. I don't know how Saitou-san knows what I've been learning and of the promise I kept with my master, but what he says means that we will be encountering more than the usual bandits that we've been fighting.”

“Yuki,” Misao could not help but whisper in surprise that was tinged with fear. Not fear for what they were going to do, but fear that her cousin was going to do something rash soon. Though she did not try to pretend to understand the emotional upheaval that her cousin had went through upon learning his lineage after the summer's attack was foiled, she did understand that to have made a promise of that magnitude after being 'betrayed' took a lot of courage.

“Saitou-san thinks it's going to be similar to how we fought in Kyoto, Misao,” Yuki stated. “That's it. I'm not going to break the promise I made.”

“Okay,” she said after a moment, seeing that there was an absolute look in her cousin's eyes. “Follow me then.”

“Wait, what?” Yahiko spluttered, but Misao understood what her cousin was trying to say without outright saying it. Though she understood the double-speak that Aoshi and the other older shinobi sometimes spoke in, she supposed that after working with the annoying policeman in three major conflicts thus far, she should have been used to Saitou having the ability to be cryptic. He had stated before that no one around them could be trusted, and thus their words and meaning behind the words would had to have been masked.

“Come on!” she gestured, taking the lead and dashing off to a narrow alleyway that made even the darkest of those in Kyoto look not as creepy as this one. Squeezing through as she heard the clatter of footsteps behind her, she finally spilled out into a larger one, but still just as empty and eerie. Spotting a few crates and barrels piled to the side, she grinned as she took off running at full speed and leapt up. Bounding from crate to crate, her legs and the strength behind them carried her up and over the rooftops as she lightly landed upon the tiles.

The plop-plop of cold rain started to fall just as she heard her friends land on the rooftop as well. Glancing back, she could see that their faces were flushed with the brief sprint and climb, though Yahiko was having a little harder of a time finding his balance on the rooftop before Yuki reached out to grab and right him. “It's going to be slippery soon, so watch your step. We'll ambush them from above, since that will give us the best advantage,” she said, reaching into the areas where she had hidden her throwing knives and pulled them out.

She had four knives each per hand, eight in total, with a reserve of eight more carried upon her. She had acquired a short blade somewhere in between their ride up from Fukushima and here, but that remained sheathed around her waist. They didn't know how many they would encounter, but with her cousin's words of warning from Saitou, she knew that the odds were most likely not going to be in their favor. She had to make sure that each knife was embedded with pinpoint accuracy. She could not be as careless as she had been in the last few battles she had engaged in.

“Lets go!” Yahiko called out. “Time to go free those children and let Eiji whack a few of those bandits on the head!”

She could not help but give a bark of laughter as the three of them dashed off, running as fast as they dared on the rooftops in the port-town of Aomori before the full deluge of the storm could fall upon them.

~~~

Kenshin opened his eyes from his partial meditation as he heard the rough slide of the door, along with the extremely noisy and loud clatter of the train churning and running upon the rails, to see Yamazaki climb back in and shut the door. The doctor was no longer dressed in a yukata, having shed that before they had left Sendai, but was wearing a semblance of his shinobi outfit. The doctor's head was covered, but as soon as he had closed the door, he tugged down the mouth covering, revealing an extremely satisfied look upon his face.

“It looks like the operators have finally understood the meaning of haste,” the doctor stated. “We should be there in less than thirty minutes, and they've already wired to the stationmaster to clear the track and platforms of passengers.”

Before Kenshin could answer however, the back door to this particular passenger rail car opened, letting some more noise before the door was shut. “All passengers have decided to move back two cars,” Soujirou stated in a rather cheerful manner, before taking a seat near the back of the car.

Movement out of the corner of his eyes turned his attention to Okita, who had been sitting opposite of him in the bench they had been occupying for the greater part of the ride up to Aomori. The former Shinsengumi captain wordlessly got up and started to pull up some of the shades that had been pulled down by former passengers who had originally sat in the car but had been convinced to move. It was bright outside, but the grey skies and the pitter-patter of rain that was starting to fall made it a little dimmer than it usually was inside a rail car such as this. Still, it was enough light for them to see and react to anything.

Initially, Kenshin had been wanting to be the one to convince the passengers to move back a few cars so that if the train was ambushed by members of the Chrysanthemum Guards, the innocent would not be caught. However, Soujirou had been the one to insist on convincing the passengers to move, owing to a point of contention that due to the fact that parts of Sendai had been controlled by the Guards, Aomori was potentially a hotbed of unwitting agents.

Okita had agreed with that assessment by presenting the fact that he and Saitou had found shipments of weaponry within the boxcars, along with several members of the Guards watching over the shipment. Even now, the shuttling of active agents within the Guards was likely embedded in the passengers. Therefore, Soujirou convincing the passengers to move a few cars back would be the best, since there was a likelihood, however small, that the passengers would recognize the young man's appearance as one of the Guard members. It was all due to his likeness to his mother, the leader of the Guards.

During the journey, Yamazaki had volunteered to convince the train operators to go faster than they would normally go to Aomori – to cut down time. Because of the near impossibility to climb from the passenger car, past the coal cart, and into the engine room, all of them had thought it more prudent for the wily shinobi to undertake that task. That left Kenshin, Tetsunosuke, and Okita sitting like bumps on a log for the duration of the journey, though Kenshin had passed the time by meditating and gathering his strength.

Judging by how Okita moved in his methodical pull on the shades, it seemed that the former First Unit Captain had also done the same. Tetsunosuke had passed the time by cleaning two revolvers he had procured from somewhere either before arriving at Sendai or before they left and carefully counting the number of bullets he had. Kenshin had heard him count to 36 before twelve of those were loaded into the chambers. The rest of the bullets were placed in a small pouch and secured on Tetsunosuke's belt. He didn't know how accurate his cousin was with such a weapon, but he had not missed the clear frown on Okita's face that was directed at Tetsunosuke, though the man had not said a word.

However, shortly after that, he had returned to his meditation, as did Okita. Both of them needed as much strength as they could muster for the possible fight against several practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi in Aomori, and possibly beyond that. Yamagata had given them a mission, but even if they recovered all of the abducted children, Kenshin knew that they could not leave the Chrysanthemum Guards alone to conduct their abductions again – not unless they were convinced to stop. However, he held himself to the promise that he had stated to the Yamagata: this would truly be his last service for the Meiji government, because his wife and soon-to-be born child needed him more than the government needed him.

~~~

The home or rather area that the children were being held in had a thatched roof that was severely deprived of its thatch and had extremely thin areas where rain was clearly seeping in. It was through these patches that Misao and the others leapt through and into the midst of several clearly frightened children; one extremely angry, beaten, and bruised Eiji; and many surprised bandits who were guarding the place.

“Kansatsu Tobikunai!”

The flurry of throwing knives flew from her hands as a few of them hit their marks true, and buried themselves within certain pressure points on the human body that made four bandits collapse to the ground like boneless fish. The second flurry of knives were already flying from her hands and into six more bandits surrounding the children, as both Yuki and Yahiko started to bat away and knock out other bandits.

Pulling out her short blade, she started to slice through the ropes that bound the children's wrists and ankles. Eiji was the third one she sliced through and as soon as the boy was freed, he gave a hearty yell and picked up a piece of planking wood that had fallen from the thin roof with their jump in, and started attacking the bandits. With the three diverting the attention of the bandits, Misao worked faster to free the rest of the children, knowing that even with twelve, no, fifteen bandits now out cold or paralyzed by pressure point, the estimated thirty bandits that were left were going to eventually overwhelm them.

“Let's go!” she shouted as soon as the last of the children had been freed.

“Fastball special!” she heard Yahiko shout and saw Yuki respond to the request that they had used a few times against the bandits on their way up here. Yahiko took a fast running start before leaping onto the already lateral swinging bokken that Yuki wielded. With the briefly combined momentum, Yahiko's speed was doubled and he was thrown straight into a crowd of bandits, knocking all of them over.

That opened up a rather good sized hole, enough so that she was already tossing a couple of children through it while the others were scrambling up and hurrying out of there. She snatched Eiji by the collar of his clothes and threw him into the fray of fleeing children, knowing that the boy was going to be stubborn enough to not run when they had the chance. Ignoring the squawk of protest from Eiji, she briefly stopped to pick up a few of her knives, before sprinting towards the front, making sure that the children were being led to the station through the shortest route possible. Glancing back towards the house that the children had been kept in, she saw Yuki and finally Yahiko after a few tense moments, follow the last of the children out.

Curious passerbys jumped out of the way as they charged through, most of them shouting that they were rascals. However, as she glanced back again, she could see some of the bandits stumbling out of the ruined house, shaking their heads and trying to get their bearings. The clatter of something far off in another road that was connected to an alleyway to this road drew her attention from the recovering bandits. That and there was also several overwhelmingly terrifying presences that accompanied that clatter.

Not a moment later, she saw the tell-tale sign of several white-mantels with blood red inner lining emerge from several forked alleyways behind them. However, as the practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi got ready to charge at them, she saw Saitou step out of the alleyway they had just passed, casually swinging his sword for a moment before stopping in the middle of the chaotic street, facing the practitioners.

“Keep going!” she heard Yahiko shout, and caught a fleeting glance of him skidding to a halt before turning and running back towards where the policeman was making his stand. Fortunately, Eiji was so embedded within the children that he could not even fight his way out, due to the crowded streets that they were pushing through. She saw Yuki glance behind, wanting to stay, but also not wanting to leave a friend behind – ultimately making the choice to get the children to safety first.

Misao plunged on – the quicker they could get the children towards the station, the faster they could get back to Yahiko. Four against two was not bad of odds, but four practitioners of the most powerful sword style against one high-calbre swordsman and a boy who had not yet achieved full potential... that was going to be fatal.

~~~

“You're in the way, moron,” Saitou muttered as he saw out of the corner of his eyes, Myoujin stopping next to him, bokken out and at the ready.

“You only told Misao to get the children to safety,” came the cheeky reply.

Saitou mentally bristled at the boy's words but as much as he wanted to retort he focused his attention on the four enemy swordsmen before him. Falling into his familiar stance, he readied the first form of Gatotsu as the splish-splash of their footsteps on the puddling streets came ever closer. The noisier ones of bandits also indicated that they were being surrounded with no where to go. The rain soaking into the four bright mantels were going to make the enemy swordsman and swordswomen's movements slower, but he was no fool to see and understand that they had practiced and trained with those heavy garments on them. If they decided to shed the mantels during this battle, well... then he and the boy were truly in trouble.

~~~

“The train's early!”

Misao was not the only one to briefly give a start at the sound of the tooting whistle of the train pulling into the station, as she and the others fought their way through the thick and fearful crowds. Yuki's yell of bandits still pursuing them only made her snap to and continue to shove and elbow her way through people. Breaking free, she grabbed the nearest child who happened to be Eiji and tossed him into an empty platform. Just as she grabbed the scruffy collar of another child, the familiar _ki-ai_ of her cousin caused her to turn back to catch a glimpse of Yuki charging towards the bandits who had finally caught up with them before the crowds swallowed him up – separating him from the rest of them.

“Yuki!” she cried as shoved the child she had grabbed towards Eiji, then tried to fight through the tangle of limbs and bodies to get to her cousin. “Let me through! Let me through!”

~~~

Whether it was the surge of civilians running away from the station, with some jumping clear of the platform, some dashing across the fields to get to safety, it didn't matter. What mattered to Kenshin, was that there was a great amount of fear and confusion in the air. He wrenched the door open and bolted out of the passenger car even before the screeching of the train applying its brakes prematurely to not run over those fleeing was that the ambush they had been anticipating to happen at the station was for naught. Eiji and a couple of other children were lying haphazardly across the platform, though it seemed that even with people fleeing left and right, the crowd was being pushed towards the train.

Two extremely loud gunshots from behind him, caused many to scream in fright, but it did its job as it scattered a lot of people and gave them clear access to what was happening near the station. He saw the familiar blue shinobi outfit of Misao flash in the midst of children who had crouched down in fright from the sound before several glittering specks flew from her hands and into a crowd of bandits. That was all he needed to see to know that she and the children she had rescued were in trouble.

Sprinting across the short field and up onto the platform, he leapt and drew his sakabatou out, smashing the blunted blade into the bandit that was about to ambush Misao from behind. Twirling up and to his right, he brought the blade down, knocking back a second bandit who dizzily stumbled into a third one before collapsing to the ground. Two throwing knives flew past the gap that was created, embedding themselves into another bandit who had been fighting against Yuki. As he completed his turn, he set the flat of his blade parallel to the ground as it smashed into the back of another bandit's neck, just as four more bandits around them fell.

The ten other bandits that remained standing were defeated quite quickly by them, though it did not escape Kenshin's notice that none of the bandits had been killed – not even the ones who had been struck by both Misao and Yamazaki's throwing knives. Sheathing his sakabatou, he only had a moment to rest before he heard Yuki yell, “Yahiko needs our help!”

Fortunately, Okita was faster in snatching the boy by the collar of his uwagi, preventing the boy from rashly sprinting away. “Let me go, sensei!” the boy insisted, fighting with more force than Kenshin would have thought. “He and Saitou-san are fighting against four practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi!”

“Go!” Kenshin heard Tetsunosuke say as he glanced over to see him sheathe his revolvers, having most likely used the butt end of them to knock bandits out, since he had not heard another shot go off from those guns apart from the initial two to scatter the people. “I got this. Go and stop them!”

“We thank you,” he gratefully said just as he heard Yamazaki jump from crate to barrel to another crate and land on the rooftop before beginning to run. With the steady rain falling, it would be much too dangerous for him and the others to even follow the shinobi on the slippery tiles. However, that did not mean that they could keep an eye on the shinobi who could point the way they needed to go to.

Without another word or glance back at Misao, Eiji, the children, or Yuki who had been handed off to Tetsunosuke, he took off, weaving his way around the not-as-crowded streets. Keeping pace with him on either side of him were Okita and Soujirou, but there was a grimness to all of their thoughts – would they find their friends and allies alive or dead when they got there?

They heard the raw _ki-ai_ first, rather than feel the powerful mixture of _ken-ki_ swirling in the area. Kenshin saw the shinobi stumble slightly on the rooftops, but knew that it was not due to the slippery tiles, for they had entered the battlefield. Even at the edge of it, he could see Yahiko flitting in and out, between bandits that he was fighting against. Beyond that was a swirl of movement that alternated between flashes of red-white and dark blue that told of Saitou's fight against the practitioners.

Putting on a burst of speed, he leapt high into the air. “Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Ryuutsuisen!”

Crashing down to the ground, just as the bandit he had struck fell, he rolled forward and pushed off the ground again, barely hearing the cheer of Yahiko behind him. “Ryuushousen!” His sakabatou crashed straight into the sword of the woman he and Okita had briefly clashed against many weeks ago – Okita Midori. Her eyes were narrowed in anger, but she was difficult to read, as she pressed back against him, before lashing out with a kick to try to off balance him. He shoved back, dancing out of reach of her kick as he slid his sword up and whirled underneath the retaliatory swing that she had attempted.

Flecks and shards of wood flew and cut across both of them as a part of a building exploded from the force that both Soujirou, fighting against the man who looked eerily similar to Hiko Seijuurou, Seta Daisuke, had displaced in their attacks. Those attacks both were inflicting upon each other were faster than most eyes could follow, but Kenshin ducked and rolled to the side again as another portion of the building was shattered.

Coming out of his roll as he felt the ghostly edge of Midori's sword against his back, he planted a hand on the ground and spun up, briefly blocking her attack before the momentum of his spin brought up clear of her for a moment and allowed him to right himself on his feet. Charging in, just as she unleashed a derivative of Tsumuji upon him, he whirled out of her reach with Ryuukansen, sending her smashing into the back of one of the Seta twins, either Sachiko or Hikari, he didn't know. However, either one that Saitou had been fighting had been thrown back by Saitou's Gatotsu Zero at the moment.

Rather than reengage their opponents, the two women used that to whirl around each other, and Kenshin suddenly found himself fighting a completely different opponent – this time a little shorter than Midori, and most definitely a head shorter than him. The woman was fast and launched at him with a screech that melded into what he recognized as Arashi. He barely had enough room to dodge as his hands and arms were jarred by the forward spin-strike. Her small size, just like his own, gave her a distinct advantage for centripetal speed.

Bringing his sword up to block her final downward slash before she lunged at him again, he found himself on the defensive as he swung his sakabatou left and right to try to parry as much of her merciless attack as possible. He could feel his arms growing heavy, but he could not let his guard down – not against her or the battle that raged all around him. There was no moment for him to attempt to attack as he block another of her fast strike, this time a near center-chest thrust, knocking her blade aside. However, she turned that into a whirl to gain momentum, and in that moment, Kenshin quickly sheathed his sword, crouched slightly, angled his sakabatou down with a firm grip on his scabbard, and unsheathed it again.

His blade flew out of the scabbard, clanging against the woman's sword. He grunted with the effort to unseat his opponent, pouring as much strength as he could summon into the blow in that one moment before his faster momentum and lower center of mass than she had gathered won out. His scabbard came flying out of his himo as he spun up and around. However, because of the angle he had forced himself to perform Souryuusen along with her quick reflexes to recognize and begin to dodge the attack, he only managed to knock her blade out of her hand, rather than break her hands or arms.

Her blade flew end over end and embedded itself within the wall of one of the houses that had not been destroyed yet. He arrested his own movement to see her flipping away from him, spring boarding and using some of the bandits that had fallen or were still fighting against Yamazaki and Yahiko, as a method to get clear of the fray. “Cover our retreat!” she shouted.

The thunderous noise that cut across the _ki-ai_ of the swordsmen fighting in the area was not from the storm, but rather from the pounding of footsteps on the earth. Even as puddled and muddied as the ground was, it could not mask the movement of many as to Kenshin's horror, he saw a great many townsfolk, along with more bandits mixed in, appear from every alleyway and road that intersected this area. As the four practitioners broke off their battles and quickly fell back, the bandits and townsfolk were trying to form a wall to prevent Kenshin and the others from pursuing them.

Soujirou's lightning-fast flat-blade cut across several of the bandits and townsfolk pushed and knocked a few back, and though Kenshin was disheartened that he had to yet again fight against the innocents, both Saitou and Okita also leapt into the fray. “Himura-san! Take care of the bandits!” he heard Okita hoarsely insist as he saw the two former Shinsengumi captains work in tandem to knock back the civilians without trying to kill them.

“All right, let's go!” Yahiko's enthusiastic cry finally shook him free of his thoughts as the boy, despite being in a rather prolonged and difficult battle, jumped and battered a bandit on the head in a rather good imitation of Ryuutuisen. Kenshin secured his scabbard back at his side before plunging into a knot of bandits.

“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Kuzuryuusen!”

Several bandits were bowled back, and using that opportunity, he saw Yamazaki slip in and toss a few throwing knives to keep the crowd from fully closing in upon them. Breaking free, Kenshin sheathed his sword and ran after the retreating forms of the four practitioners. Their rain-soaked white mantles were a beacon against the stark grey skies, but even as he and the others chased after the four, more and more civilians and bandits were pouring out of the streets and alleyways – it seemed like the entire town had been transformed into mindless people, affected by the opiate drug that none of them knew still how it was fed into the populace.

Each brief moment that Kenshin and the others stopped to push or knock away those who sought to block their pursuit was each moment lost to the four practitioners. They were getting close to the docks, and in the distance, he could see that a specific boat was already in the midst of being readied to cast off. The wind whipped at them as the heart of the storm struck, sending torrents of rain into their faces and whipped loose things around. He could not help but think that the four practitioners were mad to set across the strait in these conditions.

Still, they did not falter, but just as the flash of lightning and crackle of actual thunder tore across the skies, he saw another flash of white and red – of another mantle coming from the west side of the docks. That fifth person was sprinting blindingly fast and straight towards the ship that was already setting off into the churning waters with the four practitioners on it. If he had not been used to seeing how the person moved, even in such a storm as this, he would not have recognized the man.

“Master!”

Kenshin ran and jumped as high as he could, landing on a bandit's shoulders and using that to help propel himself out of the wall of people, just as he saw his master make the impossible leap from dock to ship. Landing on the ground, he wasted not a moment more and sprinted across the planks of slippery, wet wood, faster than he had ever run before. Flying up towards a small ramp that had been created with wind-collapsed shacks, Kenshin leapt with all of his strength, hurling himself towards the ship. His surprise and shock had given way to fear and worry. They gripped his heart like tight vices; he could not let his master go to the island, could not let him fight the Chrysanthemum Guards alone.

However, his mental protests were all for naught as an explosive force blew straight into him, arresting his forward momentum and then knocking him back onto land before he could even fly halfway to the ship. He crashed into the makeshift ramp, collapsing it as splinters bit and sliced into his back and arms. “No!” he cried as he fought to scramble up, to disentangle himself from the rubble. Stumbling out, he saw his master sheathe his blade, having only used the force of his draw to push him back to the docks – nothing more.

 _This is my mistake to bear, just as the creation of Shishio was yours to rectify_ , he saw his Master say, but due to the distance along with the noise of the rain, howling winds, and thunder, could not actually hear the words.

“Don't...” he began, his breath hitching as he realized that his master was truly going to finish what he had started so many years ago. To keep such an evil entity from rising and causing chaos in this new age, and to protect the people of Japan, his master was willing to go down the dark path of being a murderer again. “MASTER!” he screamed.

 

~*~*~*~

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

The door to the inn slid open, bringing in a brief chilly gust of wind and ice-cold rain into the front area before the door was shut. The proprietors of the inn, a married and kindly old couple who had not been affected by what had happened to the townsfolk, came shuffling from a small room. With a gracious greeting they gathered the wet raincoat and shoes that the guest wore and placed it to the side to dry, and offered to bring some hot wheat tea to wherever the guest was going to stay.

Kenshin opened his eyes as he heard the footsteps of Saitou approach from the entrance. The partition to the room slid open and he looked up from where he was sitting against a sturdy and thick partition, his right knee was curled up, the other bent towards his chest with his left arm draped across the knee. His right arm was relaxed, with his hand occasionally curling around the warm mug of wheat tea, even though the proprietors had urged them to use the room with the largest irori as their meeting place. His sakabatou was leaning against his left shoulder – it was a familiar stance that he adopted but had not sat in for a while; not since the end of the revolution. He didn't know why, but sitting this particular way at the moment felt comfortable and safe. Nonetheless, everything he had done thus far since the end of the battle had not alleviated the tiring ache trembling through his body.

While it took a while for them to quell the unrest after the four practitioners escaped, Kenshin had not been able to push aside the powerless feeling that wormed its way into his heart. Over half of those who lived here had fallen victim to the machinations of the Chrysanthemum Guards – more than those in Sendai. A majority of those were able-bodied men who had been the lifeblood of the town, with their trade in fishing and farming. Surprisingly, none of the policemen had been affected, but it was not until they, along with the formerly abducted children, had found a safe place to stay and wait out the storm that they received their first clue as to how the Guards were able to turn so many people against them without officials being any wiser.

These particular proprietors who ran this inn served wheat tea, drawn from their trade and farming of rice to other parts of the country and export to Russia, China, and the vassal kingdom of Joseon. While not popular, it was much less expensive than oolong or other black teas being imported in, but definitely not as popular as the usual green tea that most drank. Thus most people saw it as the poor man's tea, even though various grades of green tea that were grown throughout the country were less expensive than wheat tea. Still, it was a very odd thing to serve, especially since the proprietors served it exclusively in lieu of black or the usual green tea. They had explained that in the winters, the wheat tea helped keep stomachs full and warm, longer than what green tea traditionally afforded – that since the winter time was the harshest of seasons to endure up here, it was their lifeblood.

Yamazaki had found the explanation quite intriguing and when the police had been questioned as to why they had not been affected, most of them did not know until the doctor had started to question what they ate. The commonality was wheat tea – the policemen drank it to keep themselves warm during long patrols outside. As soon as some of the townsfolk had regained their senses, they too were questioned as to what they ate on a daily basis. Variations from green tea to sake and black tea were in their diets. Thus the doctor had began conducting an experiment and had entered the room, looking quite grim, a few minutes before Saitou had shown up.

“Even if the ferry did not sink in the storm, it will take at least six hours for it to cross the strait and land at Hakodate. Given how conditions are still, it will probably not return until sometime tomorrow,” Saitou stated without preamble as he closed the partition and made his way towards the opposite side of the irori (in ground hearth), taking a seat across from where Kenshin was sitting.

To Kenshin's left, Yahiko sat next to him, with Misao next to the boy, followed by Tetsunosuke. Soujirou sat next to Tetsunosuke, wearing an uncomfortable expression that was a cross between a grimace and smile since Saitou had effectively taking a seat to the left of the former Juppongatana. Sitting on Kenshin's right was Eiji, who was still glaring daggers at Soujirou, despite the fact that he had said not one word since settling in the room. Susumu sat next to the irate boy, while Yuki sat next to Susumu, having helped the doctor with the brief experiment earlier in the night. Okita sat next to Yuki and on Saitou's right. Kenshin did not miss the fact that two of the deadliest men in the country were sitting on opposite sides of Saitou.

The children, with the exception of Misao, had initially been barred from the meeting, but the three boys had been quite insistent and would not stop pressing their ears to the partitions. Strangely enough, it was Okita who had finally caved in and allowed his son to attend the meeting, thereby prompting protests from both Yahiko and Eiji. They too had been allowed to attend, though Eiji had not gotten permission from Saitou and had merely opted to just sit in the room with the others. It seemed that Saitou did not mind – not that Kenshin could see that the former Shinsengumi had indicated any disapproval about his adopted son attending this meeting.

“They'll be ready for us,” Tetsunosuke spoke up, nearly mumbling his words into his knees that had been drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. It was not for warmth that Kenshin had seen his cousin adopt that stance, but it seemed it was and attempt to stave off whatever far away memories were haunting him. They were close to Hakodate, and from what happened over the summer, he was sure that being this close to that port-city where his life had been shattered into piece was causing a lot of memories both good and bad to surface – just as Kyoto had done so for him.

“Fujita-san, your tea is ready,” the voice of the old woman proprietor spoke up from outside before entering. Placing the tea down, he heard Saitou murmur a polite but gruff 'thank you' before the old woman left.

“If they're still alive,” the policeman stated after the footsteps of the proprietor faded away, directing the statement and look straight at Kenshin. A very uncomfortable silence fell across the room, and even the soft, involuntary coughs coming from Okita did nothing to improve on it. However, after a few moments, Saitou continued, saying, “But assuming that they are, the main station gave me their latest map of Hakodate, including Goryokaku.”

He saw him reach into the inner pocket of his uniform and pull out two folded maps. Unfurling the first one, it was a map of the port-city, and the second one was a closer, detailed map of the fort. Everyone scooted closer towards the maps, with both Eiji and Yahiko rising up to their knees to peer over the crackling irori pit to get a better look. Kenshin reluctantly placed his sakabatou down as he unfolded himself and moved slightly closer towards the center, ignoring the protests of his twinging muscles. He could see parts of the map, but right now, he wanted to listen to the plan instead of contribute to it. He did not want to think too much about what was going to happen or was happening with his master, the ship, and what he had started so many years ago and was now for all intents and purposes, looking to complete. He could not bear the thought of his master returning to bloodier days as he almost had, not when he had thought his master mentally stronger than he had been.

“What did the armaments around the fort and port look like before you left, Tenken?” Saitou asked.

If the young man showed any signs of being uncomfortable with the nickname that had been given to him by Shishio long ago, Kenshin saw nothing upon Soujirou's face to reflect that. “Hmm,” he heard the young man say, looking closely at the map of the fort before glancing over at the map of Hakodate itself. “The central police station is here--” Soujirou pointed to a small area which was a little west and south of the fort itself, “--though most policemen that I've seen have walked freely in and out of the fort. Armaments that I've seen besides cannons still upon the walls were stored mostly around the inner perimeter of the fort, where I believe the stables used to be. I'm not familiar with the rifles and pistols stored, but last I know of, there were at least two large cannons pointed parallel to the wall they were sitting on top of, at each point.”

“Is the Magistrate's Office still there?”

He glanced over towards Tetsunosuke, who had asked the question, though he couldn't help but frown as he saw a hard look upon his cousin's expression. Even with one eye blinded and covered by a patch, Kenshin could see a strong resolve within his cousin's sole remaining eye. It was almost the same kind of resolve that he had seen countless of times upon both Saitou and Okita back in the days of the revolution. He knew little of what happened to his cousin during the closing months of the war, expect for the fact that Tetsunosuke had not been present in the final battle.

“Y-yes,” Soujirou answered after a moment's hesitation. “Though last I heard, there were plans to demolish the building to make way for different ones.”

“Then they might not have found it yet,” Tetsunosuke murmured before leaning over and pointing to several areas upon the fort map. “There are several passages to get into the fort itself, many of which were tightly sealed during the months we occupied Hakodate. They're probably already found out by the Chrysanthemum Guards. However, because the Magistrate's building and several others were renovated and expanded to ensure that everyone had some place to shelter in when winter came, Hijikata specifically had a few secret passages dug into the foundations.

“We couldn't risk ceiling passages, due to the need to keep heat in the building. Some of the passages involved double-walled passages that could only fit a man side ways or only allowed the person to crawl through it. Most of the passages were designed to be unstable and almost unusable – used only if enemy forces succeeded in breaching the walls of the fort. They would allow members of the Shinsengumi and other forces to plant ambushes or send grenades and the like through to stop intruders. If need be, gunpowder could have been poured into the passages and a fuse lit to explode the entire building within.”

Kenshin saw him sit back after a moment's pause, saying, “If one of these passages is still open, I can use that to get in and get my brother out. And before you say I'm not going, I'm going. The four of you--” Tetsunosuke gestured to him, Okita, Saitou, and Soujirou “--are going to be or will most likely be fighting against those four practitioners. You need someone to get Tatsu out, and despite what you might think of me or my opinion about my brother, he's still my brother. I know the fort inside and out. I'm going to rescue him.”

Silence answered Tetsunosuke's declaration, though Kenshin could not help but feel that those last couple of statements were directed more towards Saitou than anyone else. “Yamazaki,” Saitou stated, breaking the silence.

“He's right,” the doctor surprisingly answered. “You're going to have to take him with you. I can't go with you at this time, Saitou, even though I want to. There's still too many questions that need to be answered. If you don't want this opiate-laced tea to continue to spread, we need a more permanent cure. Takani-sensei's cure will work on these people, but it only works _after_ they're changed. We still don't know _how_ they're implanting the triggers within. That's what we need to prevent. You know as well as I do that the police didn't capture all of those affected. I expect more mild cases to appear in the next few days.”

“Fine,” Saitou stated after a few moments, though it was clear that he was not pleased with the response but could find no fault to the logic. “Armaments or fortifications within the town?”

This time, instead of directly addressing Soujirou, Kenshin noticed that the policeman was looking at both Tetsunosuke and Soujirou. He discreetly glanced over towards Okita, having seen him shift ever so slightly from where he was sitting. There was a clear frown upon the former Shisnengumi's face, but there was also concern within the man's eyes – most of it directed at Tetsunosuke.

“Here, here, and here,” Soujirou stated, pointing to areas on the town's map. “I was told that the Motomachi area was kept relatively the same since the fort was built, owing to the slopes of the mountain and difficulty in moving the small cannons and fortifications.”

“If they kept it the same, then the town itself won't be fortified,” Tetsunosuke murmured. “They'll be defenseless...”

“The goal is to contain the fighting to within the fort,” Saitou stated. “There's only two main ways in. It would be obvious to split our forces in half to provide an adequate distraction on either side, but that would be stupid considering the possible amount of people we'll be fighting against. The four of us will be going in from the main entrance, here, at the _ravelin_.”

Having no idea what the word that Saitou had stated was, Kenshin peered over the crackling irori and saw him point to an area on the map. It was a point, a triangular island itself within the water that surrounded the five-pointed fort, jutting out. While the plan was a bold one, he did wonder why such a man such as he had discarded the more prudent idea of splitting their forces so that they could make sure that Tetsunosuke slipped in without anyone being the wiser. Unless...

“Yamagata-san already sent someone to go rescue him, didn't he?” he asked. “That agent of Yamagata-san only managed to get Oryou-dono out.”

“Yes,” Saitou stated, looking up and directly at him. “One agent was already killed by the Guards while trying to prevent Ichimura and his wife from being abducted. Yamagata won't make the same mistake twice. Whoever the agent is, is most likely still alive, but biding his time. Ichimura will go with the agent to rescue his brother while we four distract the Guards.”

“How do we contact this agent?” Tetsunosuke asked. “Aoshi told me that an agent was already sent, but said that he doesn't know who was sent.”

“We don't,” the police officer stated. “The fact that it will most certainly be a trap and our attack should be enough to let the agent know of the intent.”

Trap or no trap, Kenshin knew that the odds were greatly against them, even if it were just the four of them fighting against the four practitioners. The battle in Aomori had shown the lengths that the four were willing to go to defeat their enemy, and if they were not dead at his master's hands from a long ago promise that had been broken, would the four of them: himself, Okita, Saitou, and young Soujirou, be able to stop them? He glanced down at his right hand for a moment and briefly curled it into a fist before uncurling it. He had to be... he and the others had to be strong enough to stop them.

* * *

_Hakodate_

 

“Yuna-sama,” Tatsu heard the guardsman speak up in an apologetic tone as he and the leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards paused in their discussion of the translated contents thus far, “Daisuke-san and the others have returned, but another passenger has arrived with them. Hiko Seijuurou-sensei.”

He glanced over at the woman in alarm, but far be it that she showed any signs of fear or surprise, her eyes only narrowed slightly with the thinning of her lips. “Where is he at the moment?” she calmly asked.

“Still at the docks, Yuna-sama,” the guardsman stated.

“Do you know why he is here? We had a truce,” she demanded.

“It seems that Daisuke-san and the others had inadvertently engaged Hiko-sensei's apprentice with the latest gathering of assets. It also seems that the Meiji government had seen fit to enlist not only Himura Kenshin's help, but also the services of two former Shinsengumi in the ferreting out of our organization and of the children that had been selected to be our assets. Ichimura Tetsunosuke was also spotted among those government assets.”

Tatsu was mildly surprised that the woman did not even deign to curse or clench her hands into tight fists – in fact, she didn't even display any signs of further anger and disappointment in the news. “I suppose your letter to your brother, Ichimura-san, along with the failed re-capture of your wife, was among my failings,” she murmured. Tatsu remained silent, though his heart sang in hope that his wife was freed before it was quashed in fear – Tetsu was now involved, and though he had tried to prevent that, his attempt had failed. He saw the woman sigh more in acceptance than in frustration before asking the guardsman, “We can assume that one of the former Shinsengumi is the government's asset, Saitou Hajime. Who is the other? Surely not Nagakura Shinpachi?”

“No, milady,” the guardsman answered. “Many could not believe our eyes when we first heard confirmation about this man from Midori-san. She had fought him and Himura near the outskirts of Tokyo. However, upon seeing him with my own two eyes at Aomori, there was no denying Midori-san's words. Okita Souji is still alive.”

This time, there was a more visible reaction upon the woman that Tatsu saw – she most definitely curled her hands into fists, tightening them enough that her knuckles turned white. “If you can,” she said after a moment in a calm but cold tone, “find out how a man clearly dying of tuberculosis was able to defeat such a disease. I will not let such an asset such as he slip through this organization again – not again from Serizawa's madness, not from the revolution, and certainly not now.”

“As you wish Yuna-sama,” the guardsman stated. “What of Hiko-sensei?”

“If he is willing to come and talk peacefully, then allow him to do so, but Daisuke and the others must also be present. If this is to be a renegotiation of the terms and conditions that we had set out long ago, then all of them, including their apprentices must hear and adhere to it.”

“Kiyoshi-san is still missing, Yuna-sama,” the guardsman pointed out. “And your son, Soujirou-san--”

“Is of no concern,” she interrupted. “Once this is done, we shall find and inform Kiyoshi-san of what has happened. There is no doubting his loyalty and commitment to us.” The guardsman inclined his head slightly and left without another word. Tatsu could hear the steps fade away, but Seta Yuna did not return her attention to the translations and instead, asked, “Okita-sensei's alias in this new era is Shirou Kaneyoshi, isn't it, Ichimura-san? We heard of Shirou-sensei fighting in Kyoto during the summer.”

Tatsu remained silent, for he refused to confirm or deny anything about his friends or acquaintances whenever she asked him during their meetings to discuss the translations. He thought it was better for her and the organization to go confirm their own things, rather than him doing it for them. It was the only modicum of comfort he could bring to himself. Even with everything that he had found out thus far in the frightening documents that told of an invasion happening soon by Russia and the Joseon Kingdom, he was still betraying the government that had sought to hide him and his wife from the Chrysanthemum Guards.

Still, curiosity about what the Guards did prior to him embroiling himself into the lockbox and assassination orders mess piqued his interest. “I'm surprise that you tried to recruit Okita-sensei. For all that you have said about not wanting power, going directly into a group of influential samurai--”

She gave a bark of bitter laughter, causing him to pause in his statement before she said, “Influential? You must have known that before they became the Shinsengumi, the Roshigumi were a menace to not only the citizens of Kyoto, but also a nuisance to the Shogun – including their own sponsor, Matsudaira-sama. It saddens me to say, since you are of a brilliant mind, but you are gravely mistaken in all of your assumptions, Ichimura-san. Serizawa Kamo, the leader of the Roshigumi was already in our employ before we sent him on the mission to form the Roshigumi and bring that group to Kyoto. That was supposed to be our way in, our secondary way to influence the Shogun, since the 12th Master was killed by his apprentice, the 13th Master. Had the recruitment of Okita-sensei, and a few others like him been successful, it would have allowed us to bring down this notion of the samurai class and Shogunate with little bloodshed. Instead, because Serizawa thought it better to terrorize Kyoto, we had him assassinated by his own men.”

“Not only did you lose control of Kyoto, but also of the Shinengumi,” he said, and even though he had mixed feelings about the notorious group, a small victorious smile appeared upon his lips. “I do not condone bloodshed, but I'm glad that you and the rest of your Guard were driven out of Kyoto. The way you manipulate people--”

“Manipulate, Ichimura-san?” she questioned. “You, of all people choose violence over peace? You may think that the orders to assassinate the Shogun and Emperor would have caused a larger upheaval than the revolution, but you're sorely mistaken. You've seen it yourself – the increase in violence as time went on, your brother's need to sate his bloodlust after his first taste of it at Ikedaya. The Shinsengumi and Ishinshishi's clashes were escalating. We tried to step back in, to break the Shinsengumi since we could not influence the Ishinshishi due to the 13th Master's truce with us regarding his apprentice. Itou Kashitarou? He was one of ours, sent on an impossible mission. Though he performed brilliantly in feinting with regards to the death of Fifth Unit Captain Takeda Kanryuusai, he stumbled in his duties when it came time to cleanly dissolve the Shinsengumi.”

“Saitou-san was the one to put a spiked bamboo in your plans, didn't he?” Tatsu said, giving her a bitter smile. “You didn't think that he was a double-agent, did you?”

“He and that shinobi, Matsumoto Aya,” she conceded, nodding. “They are a magnificent pair when working together. I had envied the Meiji government when I heard both had survived the war and they were now working in their fullest capacity for the government. But now the Guards have one, and where one goes, the other will follow.”

“Saitou-san would never join you,” he stated as confidently as he could, surprised at himself for defending his former comrades, even after what he had seen them do at Koshuu-Katsuunuma. “You're just deluding yourself if you think that he would work for your organization. That man has the strongest sense of justice that I have ever seen.”

“That he does,” she agreed. “But he will join us. Both of the former Shinsengumi captains will. I will not let the Meiji government waste such valuable assets on such frivolous matters.”

Tatsu could not help but shudder at just how arrogant and confident she sounded. She didn't expect to lose in the face of such adversity, and after what he had learned and seen in the past few weeks, he didn't expect her to.

* * *

_Aomori_

 

“Sensei...father, you shouldn't be up this late.”

Okita looked up from his sighting down his just-sharpened katana, seeing Yuki enter the room with a small, unusual-looking satchel and what looked to be a small bamboo cylinder. He couldn't help but smile at the admonishing tone that his son had adopted, along with the cross look that graced his face. While the tone reminded him greatly of Yamazaki's own whenever he pushed himself too much, the look reminded him of Aya and her annoyance at him when they had been children still growing up in a carefree world.

“It's not a laughing matter, father,” Yuki insisted as he saw him place the small satchel that was no wider than the palm of his hand and the bamboo cylinder down. “You need to rest and save your strength!”

“I thank you for your concern, Yukimura, but I am almost finished here,” he said, taking the pieces that he had taken apart and set to the side in order to properly sharpen the naked blade and methodically putting his katana back together. As he put the pieces back into their proper places, he said, “Your expression reminded me of your mother when we were younger, that is all.”

“Do you think that after Aoshi tells her what happened, she'll try to come up here, to help or something, father?” he heard his son ask, sitting down to the side, watching him work.

“Yes,” he answered after a moment, pausing for a moment as he glanced over before smiling. “Though I believe that she is more liable to say a few strong words to both of us for engaging in this reckless behavior, _before_ helping.”

Silence briefly fell between them but it was short-lived as Yuki spoke again, this time quietly saying, “I want to come with you to Hakodate tomorrow, father...sensei, but I know that you won't let me. I don't intend to protest that decision, but because both mother and I want you to come home safely, I packed a small satchel of medication for you and some wheat tea.”

Okita paused in his powdering of his katana as he looked up to see that Yuki had gestured towards the small satchel and bamboo cylinder. Carefully placing his sword and the powdering cotton down on the cloth that was spread across the tatami mat so that his blade sharpening, along with the maintenance he did on it did not dirty the mat, he then folded his hands on his lap. He was touched by the generosity of what his son had done, for since both he and Aya had revealed to Yuki about the boy's birth and circumstances surrounding his, Okita's, absence, their relationship had not been the same since that day. They were father and son, master and apprentice, but to him, it felt as if Yuki had started to slowly drift away from both he and Aya since the summer.

“Thank you,” he gratefully said, focusing all of his attention on the boy, except that he didn't know what else to say. In the past few weeks that he had not seen him and had chased him all the way up to here, the boy now looked and acted so much older than he thought possible. Where had the innocence of childhood gone? What this how Hijikata felt all those years ago when he himself had all but let his own childhood disappear at the age of nine? Was he in the right to even teach his son the full forms of Tennen Rishin Ryu? Was he making the same mistakes as he knew Hijikata had done with him – and even called him out upon with the barring of Tetsu from handling a blade?

“Yukimura, should we all fall to the Chrysanthemum Guards or other entities, how will you take up your blade?” he quietly asked after a few moments.

“F-father...”

“How will you take up your blade?” he pressed. The boy remained silent, stricken with grief, and even though that had given him the initial answer, he had seen him want to answer correctly, but didn't know what the correct answer was. He knew of his son's want to join the police force, to protect the people, but also knew that he cherished those closest to him. In a way, as Tetsu had been Hijikata's redemptive path in life, Okita felt that perhaps Yuki was akin to that similarity. He had adhered to Hijikata's orders to never teach Tetsu full-fledged swordsmanship and had watched over him during their time in the Shinsengumi, but he had never warned Hijikata of the alarming things that Tetsu was picking up. In a way, he too had failed Tetsu when he should not have and should have kept a better vigilance.

“I was nine when I first picked up a blade,” he spoke up after a few moments of silence, “and I killed a bandit with that blade. My reasoning for that is my own, Yukimura, as are everything that I have done so far. I keep to the tenets that had been set down by the _fukuchou_ of the Shinsengumi. I, nor your mother do not discourage you from your want to be a policeman when you come of age, but should we fall before then, you must find your own reasons to truly take up your blade.”

“Vengeance is what drove that man to the brink of madness and hurt Ichimura-san during the summer, wasn't it?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“I would want to avenge both you and mother,” the boy began with a hesitant look upon his face before grimacing and plunging on, “but I know that it would only cause both of you sadness as you look down upon me from the fields of Enma. I would hold that ache in my heart until the day I die, but I will try to continue to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

_Hijikata-san, do you think I am making a mistake with Yukimura?_

Countless of times, Hijikata had asked that same question to him with regards to Tetsu and what was being done about his precarious state within the Shinsengumi. Countless of times, Okita had answered that what Hijikata was doing was correct. And now, he finally understood just how much Hijikata had depended upon his advice about Tetsu and wished that he had said otherwise. He, Okita, had really been a terrible confidante to Hijikata, and he now greatly regretted it.

Silence answered his unspoken question, but even in the relative warmth of the room, Okita thought he smelled a ghost of a smoking pipe that was familiar to him. However quick that scent was discerned, it disappeared into the crackle of the merrily burning embers in the irori. “I release you from the promise that was made, Yukimura,” he said at long last. “All that you have learned thus far in Tennen Rishin Ryu is yours to wield in full.”

~~~

“You know Kaoru will have my hide if you don't come back, Kenshin.”

“Maa maa,” Kenshin answered, nodding as he took both of their futons from the closet and laid it out on the tatami mat on either side of the irori in the room. “I will return.”

“You'd better. I got other things to do then get tofu wrapped in extra soured pickled radishes for her every two hours because she has some strange craving for it.”

Kenshin could not help but smile at the mention of the dish. Though it was not the strangest of things that Kaoru wanted to eat at very odd times of the day and night, it was one of the more common dishes that he had made for her in the weeks before he had left. As Yahiko prepared the bedding, Kenshin crouched next to the irori and poked and rearranged the burning embers to release a little more heat into the room.

He heard Yahiko continue to say, “I'm sorry for what I did earlier, fighting against those four and knowing that for all that I had done so far, I really didn't have a chance against them. I know it was foolish, but I couldn't leave Saitou to face them alone, no matter how much I don't like him.”

“It was brave of you to do that, Yahiko,” he answered, prodding the embers a little more before placing the small poker down and stood back up.

“I want to come with you, Kenshin,” Yahiko stated. “You've seen what I can do, and you know you need our help!”

“That I have,” he murmured, removing his sakabatou from his side and placing it next to his futon before sitting cross-legged upon the his bedding, looking up at the boy. “But this is not the same as what you've faced in Kyoto against the Juppongatana or against Enishi's forces. Unlike the small portions of the country that Shishio controlled, Hakodate and the island of Hokkaido are completely controlled by the Chrysanthemum Guards. There are also countless of these hidden agents elsewhere in the country. Should the worse happen and we cannot stop them at Hakodate, you and the others will become the last hope that this country has for peace. I would greatly appreciate your help at my side tomorrow, but this is much bigger than what any of us have faced thus far, Yahiko. Protect the children.”

He saw Yahiko sigh, and knew that the boy knew that his words were right. He wanted Yahiko's help, as the boy had done for him when Enishi had challenged him, but knew that that was selfish of him. The boy had declared himself many a times to be the defender of Tokyo, of the people, and right now, that was needed more than his own personal need. He, Kenshin, had to deal with the aching pain lancing through his body and tiredness of fighting with so much strength that he no longer had, on his own. He would do so at Hakodate, and also hope that his master had not returned to his old ways. It was all he could do; and the thought of returning safely to his wife and unborn child was what kept him going. For the sake of the future, he had to stop this madness before it could spread.

“Do you think--”

“Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going, you murderer!”

He was not the only one to blink, startled by the extremely harsh words that had issued out from the hallway, belonging to none other than Eiji. Immediately getting up, though he left his sakabatou lying on the tatami mat, he slid open the partition with a clack and peered out into the hall. He was not the only one peering out due to the noise – Yamazaki, Okita, along with Yuki were also peering out.

Eiji was standing near the entrance to the hall, with his room (shared with his adopted father, Saitou) having been the closest to the entrance of the inn. Saitou was no where to be seen. However, standing half-way paused in walking down the hall towards the rear entrance was Soujirou, who had taken up the room furthest away from the front entrance. It seemed that Eiji had not been sleeping and instead, had been vigilantly watching for any signs of exiting from the room and movement of Soujirou.

However, with all things considered, the situation was quite volatile, and with Saitou not present, Kenshin knew that he had to step in--

“Watch your language, Eiji!” the unexpected voice of Misao cut in as Kenshin and the others saw the young _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu jump down to the first floor, having taken up residence on the second floor with the other children. He was not the only one to blink in surprise as a soft 'oro' escaped his lips when Misao openly slapped Eiji with enough force to send him stumbling into the frame of his room's entrance. “There are _children_ upstairs trying to sleep!”

“Who cares--”

This time, Kenshin took a full step out into the hall, pausing from approaching as he saw Misao grab Eiji by the front of his clothes. There was a startlingly furious look in the young shinobi's eyes; something that he had never seen before from her, but it was not directed at Eiji at all. “You're not the only one who hates this arrangement, Eiji,” Misao stated, her voice wavering but not cracking. “You're not the only one who lost people whom we cared about to him. But you're not helping the situation by holding on to a grudge that can never been avenged. People change, Eiji. That man who stood by and allowed your parents to be killed by Shishio's men, and that one who recruited and sent my Aoshi-sama down his destructive path does not exist anymore. I want revenge as much as you do, but he's not the same anymore, and if I take it now, it would be a hollow one.”

There was strength in her voice, and despite the unfolding situation, Kenshin saw resolve wrapped around her. She abruptly let the boy go and without a glance down towards the rest of them, turned and went back up the stairs. The quietness of her footsteps faded, but before Kenshin could approach Eiji, the boy had picked himself up from his slumped position against the frame and whirled back into the room. The partition clacked shut after him, and Kenshin did not take another step towards the room.

Soft footsteps along the hallway, fading towards the rear answered the commotion, as he glanced back to see the young man return to whatever he had been doing. He caught Okita's glance towards him, sympathetic, but knowing as well as he did that there was little either of them could say to the parties involved. He knew that either of them could try to talk to Misao, and him, Kenshin, to Eiji since Saitou was not present, but at the moment, anything said would not be heard. There was no need to press upon any sort of wisdom or words with Soujirou, for Kenshin knew that the young man was well aware of circumstances and had already sought to mitigate his presence as much as possible.

Kenshin mentally sighed; only time would tell if Eiji would ever come to see that Seta Soujirou had truly changed and was trying to be as penitent as he could. There were no words that he or others could say to convince the boy otherwise.

~~~

“Here,” Susumu said, causing Tetsu to look up from where he had been sitting and leaning against the thick-walled partition of his room, staring at nothing in particular and having not even heard him enter. He had been surprised that his friend had not even deigned to pop his head out into the hall in mere curiosity to the commotion that had happened. But that surprise shouldn't have been there, for he supposed that with all things considered, Tetsu was currently lost in his own thoughts and memories.

“What's this?” he heard his friend ask, looking curiously at the warm mug of wheat tea and small packet of herbal medicine before taking both.

“Something to help you sleep,” he answered, settling down as he waited for his friend to take the medicine. He saw Tetsu open his mouth once to either protest or say something to that effect before closing it and set the mug down on the tatami mat. Wordlessly, Tetsu opened the packet and dumped the entire content into his mouth, swallowing it, making a face, before picking up the mug and draining the entire content of the tea.

Susumu took the mug and empty packet back as he saw his friend grimace at just how awful the medicine tasted, but just before he got up, he heard him say, “Thank you, Susumu.”

“It is the best I can do under the circumstances to try to keep your memories from overwhelming you tonight,” he said, getting up as he saw him shuffle towards where the futon and thick cover was laid out. “You never need to thank me when it comes to stuff like this, Tetsu.”

“No,” he heard his friend murmur a bit sleepily as the medicine started to take effect, “but Hijikata would be yelling at me from wherever he's watching if I didn't.”

Susumu couldn't help the small smile that tugged on the edges of his lips as he saw Tetsu settle into the futon and fall into a deep sleep a few moments later. Gently blowing out the lantern light, though the crackling, burning embers in the small irori in the room still partially illuminated the room, he then quietly left and closed partition. The summer's circumstances might have set his friend back, but he could see that his friend was still slowly, but surely healing and finding a small measure of peace with his life.

~~~

Saitou resisted the urge to take out the final cigarette that was in his pack as he saw the ashes of the second-to-last one he was smoking fall off and scatter to the ground. Leaning back against the wall, he glanced up into the sky. Though it was cold out here, especially with the gentle sea breeze that carried the scent of firewood and a salty-sour smell down, he reveled in it. It made the air clear, and the stars shining in the inky night sky brighter than ever.

He heard the shuffling of feet and the soft footsteps on the slightly still-muddy ground, muffled by the tall wooden walls that surrounded the inn. However, instead of the sounds of the footsteps and of the creak of the door to the outhouse in the rear of the inn being opened, he glanced down over as he heard the rear entrance to the inn being opened. However, he knew that he shouldn't have been surprised to see a certain person come out to the rear perimeter of the inn.

“I heard a commotion a little while ago,” he stated as he saw Okita slid the rear entrance door shut and approach to stand next to him. There was a keen look in his comrade's eyes – the same as usual, and the same kind of look he had seen whenever they had patrolled the streets of Kyoto or assigned for the night as guards in the Shinsengumi compound long ago. Okita was as alert as he was in watching for any signs of the enemy attempting to attack at the moment.

“Seta Soujirou,” Okita said, deigning to ignore his comment about the noise he had heard issue quite strongly from the first floor before a certain someone had exited the rear of the inn, only to use the outhouse before going back in. “How did he come to join the ranks of Shishio Makoto and the Juppongatana?”

“We never were able to find out exactly when,” he stated, frowning more at the fact that his second-to-last cigarette was almost finished than from the subject matter they were discussing. “But from what Battousai told us during his rematch against him, it was most likely when he was young and in the midst of being attacked. Shishio or some element of his presence was what saved him.”

There was no need for him to state it, and no need for Okita to confirm what he was thinking – the story behind Seta Soujirou and his path in life was vaguely similar to what he had heard about the rumors of just how Okita himself came to start learning swordsmanship. Of course, Hijikata was no Shishio, but during their first year in Kyoto, Serizawa was similar in the mannerisms that Shishio had displayed. A little too similar for Saitou's comfort.

However, the largest difference between Okita and the boy was the fact that Okita knew and understood exactly why and what he was doing; committing all of those assassinations that Serizawa had given him. Saitou had seen that and had it confirmed the day that Okita had admitted to him, Kondou, and Hijikata about it. Everything Okita had done as Serizawa's left hand had been to find out what the man was up to. Seta Soujirou's purpose had been just to display absolute loyalty to Shishio, along with confirming the mantra of how the weak died and the strong lived. That was until Himura Battousai had broken him.

“Do you believe his story about leaving the Chrysanthemum Guards?”

He thinned his lips as he dropped the last of his cigarette and quashed it with his shoe. Instead of directly answering Okita's question, he asked, “Will you be fast enough to draw and kill him?”

Silence answered his question, but it had also answered Okita's question. Saitou glanced up into the sky again – it was only a matter of when, not if, the correct words would be said to change Seta Soujirou into a merciless killer again. Given the length of time that the young man had been with the Guards, and despite his insistence that he had left and was now fighting against the organization, Saitou doubted that the man had willingly remained for those months. Yamazaki and those in Tokyo still could not fully figure out how people were being manipulated with words even though they had been drugged by opium-laced tea.

It was just a matter of _when_ the fastest and deadliest assassin born and shaped as a result of the new age was going to betray them in Hakodate... and just what state of mind he would be in.

* * *

_Morning..._

 

With the dissipating of the storm that brought clearer and much more beautiful blue sky dawning across the horizon than Kenshin had seen in a while, it had also brought a cold chill that swept through the area. The ship that had taken the four practitioners along with Hiko Seijuurou to the island had returned empty, with its captain bearing a written message that had been immediately given to Saitou. The policeman had wordlessly read through it before handing it off to him.

With the others, including the children crowded around him, Kenshin read the message out loud, saying, “We wish to not fight and welcome you, Himura-dono and others of the Meiji government's employ, to partake in a truce negotiation.”

“That's a trap,” Yahiko bluntly stated.

“Could they be anymore obvious?” Yuki complained.

“Fujita-san, are you sure you do not want some of us to accompany you?” the chief of the Aomori police asked as Kenshin looked up to see the former Shinsengumi captain pause in his climbing of the ramp to the deck of the ship. “I can spare a few of my men for this task.”

“No,” Saitou answered, but did not turn around. “Keep all of them here and be ready. Until the first snow has fallen here, there is always the possibility that they will attack. It's what I would do, if I wanted to stop the government from fully retaliating.”

“Understood,” the chief stated.

Kenshin folded up the letter as the group around him broke up and handed it to Yahiko. The boy didn't say a word to him and merely nodded – no words needed to be exchanged between them. Yahiko knew what was at stake, and he knew that the boy would not be reckless and would not call him out on being reckless. He fully understood the stakes. He was the last to board the ship, and as soon as the captain had cast off, he finally turned to look back at the docks. While he hoped that what Saitou had stated would never come to fruition, another part of him knew that that hope was quite possibly futile.

Squaring his shoulders, he turned back towards the front and settled his thoughts. The letter was vague and was most certainly implying a trap, but it also told him one thing: his master had not killed those of the Chrysanthemum Guards as he had feared. There was still hope for a peaceful way to resolve this.

* * *

_A few hours later..._

 

The gulls cackled and honked above him, but Tetsu was not paying attention to the annoying birds or to his rebellious stomach. Instead, leaning against the rails of the bow of the ship, he was concentrating on the freezing sea breeze that slapped at his face, keeping him awake. He was also looking at the speck of land that was getting ever closer with each passing minute. That speck slowly became fishing houses and boat-like in various shapes, before the looming mountains that surrounded Hakodate, along with Mount Hakodate itself could start to be seen in the fog.

As the lonely bell of the ship tolled to indicate that it was arriving at the docks and for any fishing boats to heed its location and get clear, Tetsu could barely hear the footsteps of his friends and comrades approach. He did, however, feel their presences – sharp, not yet menacing, but ready to spring into action. Tetsu released his left hand from the railing that he had been clutching and moved it so it was resting lightly on the butt of the left revolver in his holsters.

The soup of a fog that had clung onto the strait had been thick, but not thick enough to obscure everything. As it started to thin out, he could see a few empty fishing boats, but even with the wind still whipping at him and the others, he knew that they should have already started to hear the various shouts of a usual docks and port-town being quite noisy. He knew how noisy it had been even before the Imperialists had invaded the port-town over ten years ago. This silence... this silence accompanied by the creak of wood upon water, and the splashes made against the shore, was unnerving.

The ship finally slowed down enough and with a small bump against a dock, they were finally at Hakodate. There were a few familiar-looking buildings, along with a few new ones, but generally, the town seemed to have not changed too much since he had last seen it. However, in the eerie silence that fell upon not only the ship, but also everywhere, not one soul was seen. Scraps of paper floated about, buffeted by the cold wind, and fishing nets swung, slapping gently against the slabs of wood they had been set against to dry.

Tetsu swallowed a sudden lump of fear that rose in his throat. Hakodate was a ghost town – seemingly abandoned with no one outside at all... not even a stray dog or cat. “Where are they? Where is everyone?”

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun historical note: Hakodate's Goryokaku Magistrate Office was actually torn down in the early 1870's, but restored as a historical archive, building, and museum in the 20th century. There are a lot of neat artifacts inside of the museum (such as the very interesting and detailed account of what happened to the Ezo Republic during the final months of the Shogunate). Though the actual star fort is in ruins this day an age, it's been turned into a park. People can walk in and around the ruins and former earthen parts of the fort's walls, though it is better to go during hanami season.
> 
> Having visited the place before (for research and tourist purposes) and spending nearly the entire day there, I like to exaggerate the fort's actual walls, structure, and inner buildings for the purposes of this series.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

There was silence, and then there was silence. While Saitou was used to the former, in that there was usually some background noise or even just the scuffle of feet or the occasional yowl of some stray animal, this silence with only the waves lapping against the docks and boats, along with the creak of wood upon water was eerie. Unnerving as it was meant to be, Saitou could feel the wolf within him growl in annoyance to the distraction that it was supposed to have been. Taking a brief look around as he paused on the docks, he spotted something peculiar flapping against the wind.

It was nestled between scraps of formerly colorful square banners that had a torn look about them – three white scraps of cloth that to a passerby might have looked as if they had gotten caught in the ropes and telegraph wiring that ran across the rooftops of several buildings. However, to Saitou, it was a familiar signal and sight. He had to pause and wonder though, how on earth Yamgata's agent whom he had not expected to be _that_ particular agent sent to retrieve Ichimura Tatsunosuke and his wife, knew that he was coming. Had Yamagata told the agent that he, Saitou, had been assigned to a different part of the same case?

Shaking off the question for he knew it would be answered soon, he started to walk, right hand resting lightly upon the tsuba and hilt of his sword, ready to slip and grab the scabbard if necessary. He heard the others descend from the ship to the docks, and a few moments later, heard the loud _whump_ of someone, most likely the Seta boy, knocking out the ship operator. The bell was tolled, and if those of the Chrysanthemum Guards had heard it, would already know that they were here, but as for when and where they arrived at the star fort, that remained to be seen.

“This way,” he stated, casually gesturing with his left hand in the direction they were headed to – right.

“Saitou-san, I believe the way to the fort is to the left,” he heard Seta say.

“We're going to get information from the agent first,” he stated. “Stay alert.”

Even though he did not even deign to glance behind him as he walked across the muddy street that ran across the docks and entered the port-town proper with its tight alleyways and vaguely defined main thoroughfares that contained carriage groves, he could hear the others prepare themselves. While Ichimura still followed closely behind him, definitely not used to what a Shinsengumi patrol unit usually did in situations such as this, the Battousai and Seta boy seemed to have an idea of what to do. Okita had immediately drifted to the right and was already walking in a parallel alleyway, navigating by sight and hand signals that he, Saitou, gave to him. Himura and Seta had both hung back to ensure that they were not ambushed from the rear, though Himura eventually headed right to tail Okita.

Theirs were the only footsteps that he heard in this eerily silent port-town. Western-styled buildings with shuttered windows were closed, and even small shop entrances that would normally be open were closed. He could sense the presences of people inside the buildings, but where he would assume it was fear, there was nothing at all – nothing to give him or anyone else with him a clue as to what was going on. Curious eyes that he would have thought to be alerted by the noise of footsteps on muddy ground were not even peering out of windows.

Every so often, Saitou caught a glance of the markers that he was looking for and eventually, in a rundown, ramshackle-looking area of the port-town, the markers stopped. There was a shack of sorts to the left of him where he had stopped, and jutting out from the dirt below the front entrance perimeter of the shack just small enough to not be obtuse or overt was the final marker. As he glanced down at it, the others returned from the wide net cast, sensing that this was their destination.

The final marker was thee small stones, descending from large to small, with the largest as big as his fist and the smallest no bigger than the tip of a shinai. Three stones, formerly indicating information about Saitou's old target of investigation and eventual assassination, the former _Sanbou_ of the Shinsengumi, Itou Kashitarou. Only one other person within the Shinsengumi knew how to contact him by this route whenever information was to be had by either side and needed to be passed on during his long ago investigation.

“I honestly never thought you of all people would acquire or recruit an investigative entourage, Saitou.”

Ichimura was the only one to jump slightly as Saitou looked back up to see Matsumoto Aya emerge from the shadows of an alleyway. She was dressed in a variant of her shinobi clothing, greys with scraps of fur sticking out of her clothing like tufts of hair, with seal-skin boots wrapped around her feet. There was a thick, dark-colored scarf wrapped around her neck and mouth, though her head was uncovered and her hair was being picked up by the cold wind. A wakizashi was strapped across the back of her waist, but Saitou knew better than to presume that she was just armed with just the short blade.

“Souji,” the former spymaster greeted her husband in a decidedly neutral tone.

“Aya,” Okita answered in kind.

“As soon as the ship bearing five swordsmen and women arrived, the Chief Morita ordered the entire town to take shelter,” she stated, returning her attention to the task at hand before gesturing for them to follow her into the rundown shack. “It seems that the Chrysanthemum Guards and the police force here have an agreement of sorts.”

“Allied agreement?” Saitou asked as they entered and settled themselves in the one-room shack that looked quite dilapidated and smelled extremely musty. The irori in the center was left untouched, and the former spymaster didn't even bother with the usual host pleasantries – not that Saitou expected her to, since he was here just to collect information. She did pull out a map of the fort and its surroundings, though it was heavily marked with “X” and other notations that he could only presume that was the woman's own encoding.

“More like a mutual non-destructive agreement,” she stated. “Negotiated entirely without consultation with Tokyo. I decided not to check in with Chief Morita when I got here, after hearing about it from the locals. The policemen have agreed to keep the denizens safe and overlook the stockpiling of weapons that are supposed to be distributed south, while the Guards keep the strait and the shores clear of foreign vessels. It allows the island as a whole to fish in without fear of being preyed upon or impressed by the Joseon, Qing, Russian, American, or European ships. The arrival of the five yesterday has set off a very unusual precaution with the police and those living here.”

“The case only involves the Chrysanthemum Guards and four of the five,” he stated before jerking a thumb at Himura. “His master is the fifth who had _not_ been expected.”

Matsumoto merely raised in eyebrow with her brief glance over at Himura before returning her attention to the rest of them and pointed to a particular area on the fort map, saying, “Since rescuing Ichimura Hanako, the Guards have increased their security around the fort. At least one hundred men are walking the outer perimeter at any given moment and another hundred along the walls. They rotate twenty of them every four hours. I was unable to find Tatsunosuke, due to him being moved from where I had initially scouted his location within the fort and had to make my escape.”

“We received a message from the leader of the guards, requesting a truce negotiation.”

“Truce, eh?” she answered, a brief, almost sarcastic smile tugging up the edges of her lips as she tapped the map for a moment before focusing her attention on Seta, saying, “Your mother... if I'm presuming correctly and you're actually Seta Soujirou, has quite the sense of humor with that kind of proposal.”

“From what I know of her, she tended to be like that,” the young man answered in an equally cheerful manner. “That was one of the many reasons why I didn't stay.”

“Kids these days. Never listening to their elders, always rebelling,” Matsumoto muttered, though a cough from Okita (deliberately done to mask his laughter or not, Saitou could not tell) broke the mood and focused them back on the matter at hand. “I overheard some details and I think this is where they've moved Tatsunosuke to. It's the safest and most secured area, but given your arrival, they'll probably move him somewhere else.” She pointed to a particular area within at the Magistrate's Office, in the heart of the fort. “From what I heard, his abduction has to do more with his 'linguistic' skills than this 'lockbox' that he seemed to have acquired long ago.”

“The lockbox is something we know about. But linguistic?” Himura asked.

“Tatsu-nii never spoke any other language other than Japanese and whatever English our father taught us,” Ichimura stated. “Why would they abduct him for something that they could have abducted a diplomat for?”

“Not languages, kid,” Matsumoto answered, shaking her head slightly. “Linguistic translation skills. Ciphers. Foreign ciphers.”

“Foreign ciphers?” Saitou cut in before any of the others could, frowning. Though he worked in the shadows through the Imperial Police Force, he knew that he was not well versed in even the most darkest of aspects that tied into the aggressive informational gathering that the Imperial spy network did. However, he knew and had heard of ciphering methods that they did to keep what they found safe, but international ones... those were difficult to break, due to the need to fluently know the language they were written in. He had strong doubts that Ichimura Tatsunosuke was involved within the network, seeing that the man was all but a hermit with his wife during the summer.

“I don't know exactly what they're doing, but it looks like Ichimura Tatsunosuke has or had abilities to decipher complex, foreign-encoded documents and they're using him for that,” she said.

“And once he's done, they'll have little use for him, with or without the lockbox,” Himura quietly said.

“Yes, which is why your arrival here is good timing,” the former spymaster said. “I don't know how long he has left, but given that the Guards are also involved with foreigners, importing arms, clearing the shores as a blinding mask to cover whatever their activities are, makes them a bigger threat than the abduction of one man.”

“Sounds familiar,” Saitou stated, flicking his eyes over towards a particular red-haired man.

“Yes, it does,” Matsumoto agreed, her gaze also upon the same person. “Except this time, they learned from the Ezo Republic's mistakes. They'll be ready when spring comes.”

“I'm here to rescue my brother,” Ichimura said after a few moments, glaring at both of them. “That's all. _Don't_ involve me or my brother in anything else you do.”

This time there was a very deliberate clearing cough from Himura, drawing all of their attention as he asked, “How much time do you and Tetsunosuke need to get into the fort and rescue Tatsunosuke?”

“As much as you can give us,” she answered.

* * *

_Koyagumi, Hakodate Magistrate's Office, Goryokaku..._

 

“Ichimura-san.”

Tatsu looked up from the current page he was working on, blinking owlishly as he tried to clear the sleepiness from his eyes and from staring at so many characters for a long time. He had been moved to this particular area within the Magistrate's Office only a few days ago, with no explanation given to him, but he was grateful for the movement. As of late, it had been getting quite chilly within the stone fortress's rooms, even with a hearth in the room he had been occupying. This new room he had been given was much warmer, cleaner, and brighter with the light that streamed through the southern windows facing the nakaniwa – and it even had a proper irori within.

However, he still conducted his discussions with Seta in a different place, but it seemed now that she was here and to his surprise, dressed a little more formally than she had seen her dressed before. “Your presence is requested for this meeting that we will be conducting in the ohiroma.”

That particular room was on the other side of the nakaniwa and as far as he knew, it had not been used since the fall of the Ezo Republic. Everything in that room, from the wooden floors that covered the 135 tatami mat-wide room to the painted shouji and western-styled lights that were lit on the walls had been left as-is from those days. He was curious as to why they were using that room – surely given what they knew about the foreigners and their plans, was Seta hosting a negotiation of sorts with foreigners? If so, it would be an appropriate room to conduct such business – to put them more at ease than in a Japanese-styled room.

“They've arrived as you've requested, Ichimura-san,” Seta said as he got up and closed the book. “I've already warned you of the consequences if you use them to cross the Chrysanthemum Guards. They, like the 13th Master, are willing to negotiate, but it is up to you to convince them of the futility of their cause and of the threat that faces us.”

“Is my brother with them?”

“No.” An unkind smile bloomed upon her face. “Given what you know of your brother and of his ties to this place, you should know where he probably is and what he is attempting to do. Rest assured that none of them are the wiser about the allegiance of the Devil of Nagasaki.”

He frowned, not because of Seta's words, but because he knew what would happen if he did not control the negotiation as Seta was ordering him to do. His brother was most likely infiltrating the fort, hand-in-hand with Matsumoto Aya. The only complication to stem from that fact was that because the former Kyoto spymaster had completely turned and pledged loyalty to the Guards, if he, Tatsu, did not convince the others to join them, Matsumoto had orders from Seta to kill Tetsu. He didn't know how the Guards managed to convince her to betray the Meiji government, for all he remembered was the woman's glare at him for betraying her name to the Guards, and Seta's promise to turn any and every asset Yamagata threw at them.

With his brother's life on the line, Tatsu's hands were now completely and thoroughly tied, and it was all because he got involved in a mess that he had never wanted to become involved in.

* * *

_Outer Perimeter of Goryokaku..._

 

It was just as the former Kyoto spymaster had stated in her briefing to them – there were at least a hundred men surrounding the outside perimeter of the fort. The strangest thing about them was not the fact that they let the four of them through with no questions asked, but the fact that all of them were unarmed. They did close up the hole left by the four of them as soon as they passed through and crossed the bridge to the ravelin. There were two cannons facing outwards and towards the bay and town on the high, outer stone wall of the ravelin. A large, bowl-shaped brazier of fire was burning a bit ways away from those guarding the cannons.

Kenshin's unease stemmed mainly from the fact that they were on such a small piece of man-made land and that there was only two bridge, one forward and the other backwards connecting from the port town to the ravelin and to the front entrance to the fort. With just how cold the air was around them – cold enough that he could see puffs of his breath coming out – the water surrounding the fort and the ravelin was sure to be incredibly cold. If they got into a fight here, it would spell doom for all of them for there was not enough room to maneuver; not with the four of them and their combat styles.

The doors to the fort, heavy wooden ones that he had seen on a perimeter wall to a church in Nagasaki before it had been torn down, creaked open. A woman, wearing a double-layered dark blue uwagi and dark grey hakama and an even thicker overcoat that looked more like a black bear fur draping than a coat shuffled out. No one followed her, but the door behind her did not close.

As she confidently walked towards them, seemingly casually resting her left hand on the hilt of her sword, he heard a slight noise coming from his right. Glancing over and down, he saw that Soujirou had tightened his grip on the borrowed katana that was at his side. The young man's knuckles were white, but there was a seemingly unconcerned expression upon his face. They all knew who was walking towards them for she was one of two identical twins, both of the practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi and shorter than Soujirou. He wasn't sure if he had fought against this particular woman or her sister in Aomori.

The woman stopped before them, not surprisingly just one step out of his, and as he belatedly realized, Saitou, Okita, and Soujirou's initial strike ranges. “Welcome,” she politely greeted. “Please follow me, Himura Kenshin-san, Okita Souji-sensei, Saitou Hajime-san, and dear nephew of mine, Sou-kun. The three of you are expected and as we have already shown you, no harm will come to you. Your mother has decided to extend this protection to you as well, Sou-kun.”

The young man said nothing in reply, but Kenshin could see that he was clenching his jaw – in frustration, anger, revolution, Kenshin couldn't tell for the swirl of emotions that he had felt thus far in their journey was all but gone. It wasn't like the state that he had been in before he, Kenshin, had defeated him in Shishio's lair, but similar to what he felt from both Saitou and Okita. What a swordsman of their calibre usually displayed for intent... or didn't. He could still discern intent from the young man if he concentrated, but at the moment, did not.

He took a step forward, saying, “We thank you for the invitation, that we do, and want to peacefully resolve this if the circumstances allow for it.” He was no fool to know that considering the length that the Guards had gone to in their abduction of children and of Tatsunosuke, and of his master's involvement, the chances were slim. However, the invitation was given to them before they had departed Aomori, and had been reiterated just now – perhaps they truly wanted to come to some agreement rather than let violence beget more violence. The former spymaster needed time, but perhaps there were two ways to go about this – with the successful rescue of Tatsunosuke and a peaceful way to stop the Chrysanthemum Guards.

The woman inclined her head slightly before turning and led them across the bridge. Kenshin followed directly behind her, but he could feel the wariness bleeding off both Saitou and Okita as the two followed on either side of Soujirou. As the five of them crossed the massive fort doors, Kenshin saw several guardsmen standing beyond the doors and in the outer layer of the inner part of the fort. They were dressed in the same manner as their counterparts stationed in the outer perimeter – several layers of warm clothing. The only difference was that they were also armed with an assortment of blades, pistols, and rifles slung across their backs or wrapped around their waists – in short armed to the teeth. If there was to be any violence, then it would happen within the fort, not outside of it, for that was the clear difference between those guardsmen ringed on the outside perimeter of the fort than those within.

Oddly enough, he felt relieved at the sight before him, for it meant that the information that Matsumoto had given them was true – there was an agreement and accord between the civilians, police, and the Chrysanthemum Guards. That made him more determined to sue for peace, rather than instigate violence. The last time he had seen such heavily armed men was at Toba-Fushimi, and even then, the Shogun's men had not been armed with such assortments or advanced weaponry as now.

~~~

It was a route that he remembered half-crawling, crouching-walking through. It had been mainly on the orders of Hijikata when it had been first constructed and tested as a viable route to possibly send troops through if enemy forces successfully blockaded all visible entrances in and out of the fort. The genius part of the route was that it did not start near the perimeter of the fort, but in the port-town proper. However, getting to the covered entrance years after it had been initially built required some very creative 'digging' on their part. He paused for a moment and shook his head – he could not afford to think of the past, even though every step that he took within the port-town sent him down into his memories.

“Oy, kid, you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered, unable to glance back towards Aya who was following behind him. There just was not enough room for him to do that. “I forgot how much I hated crawling through this thing... At least it's not raining.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Hey, how good are you with those _Peacemakers_?”

“ _Peacemakers_?” he questioned as they continued on.

“Those revolvers. That's what they're called on the black market.”

“Oh,” he said. “You're not going to arrest me, are you, Aya-nee?”

“Just tell me how good are you with those,” she said, annoyed. “I need to know. And also how many bullets you have.”

Tetsu hesitated for a moment, not because he didn't trust her, but because the last time he used such a weapon was during one of the lowest points in his life. When he had joined Saigo Takamori's army because he thought that it was a way out of the misery that had encompassed his life. “I...I used a variant of it at Shiroyama. I can accurately shoot someone from horseback at what the Americans call fifty yards. I have thirty-four bullets left. I used two of them at Aomori.”

“Do you think you can shoot and hit something smaller than a man from that length and possibly height? Say a gunpowder barrel?” she questioned.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I don't know.”

Silence answered him for a few long minutes as they continued to shuffle through the tunnel. However, Aya broke that silence a few moments later, saying, “They have at least three guards stationed either outside or inside each room in the Magistrate's Office. The negotiation will most likely be held at the ohiroma. If you want to rescue your brother, I need you to do something for me. Since you should know the fort, its buildings or at least its many tunnels like the back of your hand, you'll be in the best position to avoid most of the guards within the building. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said, wishing that it was not so squishy that he could reach down and touch his revolvers strapped to his side in reassurance.

“As soon as you get to the top of the taikoyagura, wait five minutes, then aim and shoot the gunpowder barrels positioned below the ohiroma's ichinoma. I'll take care of the rest.”

* * *

_Ohiroma, Hakodate Magistrate's Office, Goryokaku..._

 

The shouji that they stood before were lightly painted with rolling clouds, before their escort slid the partitions open. While the outside of the room looked quite traditionally Japanese, the inside was anything but. Polished wooden floors swept the entire room, along with a large, round dark-colored wooden table and chairs to match the elaborate legs the table stood upon, sat at the end. Kenshin estimated that the room could probably fit about 135 tatami mats, or about four large rooms. Candle lights and lanterns of a European taste decorated the room and walls, though the bright lights shining in from the north side of the room (on his left) gave the place a more natural glow. The entire room was westernized and only the shouji that surrounded the place gave it an odd fusion of Japanese aesthetics mixed with Western modernization. Kenshin was reminded of Takeda Kanryuu's mansion as he and the others stepped in and one of the two guards standing just beyond the entrance slid the shouji shut behind them.

There were two guards at the very end of the long room, and twelve guards, six on either side, standing between the entrance and where the round table was. Okita's niece, Midori, was standing at the far end of the room, in between the two guards, behind the woman who sat in the center seat of the table. Her hawkish gaze was pointed straight at them, and Kenshin did not miss the tightening of her grip on her katana.

Five people were already seated at the round table, with one of those five being his master, who sat on the right and as far away as possible from the other four. Two of the remaining four were Seta Daisuke and the other twin sibling of the Seta family – either Sachiko or Hikari. The woman sitting at the center seat was dressed in a silver-grey kimono. It was apparent that she was of relation to Soujirou, due to looking similar to him. Kenshin knew that this woman was none other than Seta Yuna, leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards.

He felt a brief spike in his senses before hearing Okita, standing to the left of him, murmur, “Azami.” What connotation for that particular woman's name to the woman approaching was not apparent to him, but nonetheless, it seemed that the former First Unit captain also had some old ties with Seta Yuna.

Kenshin refocused his attention on those at the table as their escort took a seat next to her siblings on the left side of the table. While he felt elated that his master was here, there was an incredibly stormy and hostile look upon his master's face. He had never seen such a look before – angry, yes, irritated and arrogant, again yes, but this... this was something he wished never to see again if it could be so. Shame and remorse briefly flooded him as he finally understood just what his own presence was doing to his master.

However, his eagerness to find a peaceful way to conclude this was severely tempered by the final person at the table. Sitting next to the leader of the Guards was none other than Tatsunosuke. Matsumoto and Tetsunosuke were currently infiltrating and searching for the elder Ichimura brother, but he was sitting right here in the room. With their arrival, he thought that Tatsunosuke would have been hidden somewhere else within the fortress as all of them had assumed the Guards would have done. This was a complication that they had not expected. With no way to contact Matsumoto or Tetsunosuke about the unexpected change, the longer either of the two stayed in the fort, the more danger of discovery and capture the two were going to be in.

“I am Seta Yuna, leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards. I do not want this misunderstanding to escalate and wish to discuss how we can come to an agreement to have peace between all of us.” Silence answered her declaration. “Come now,” she said after a few moments, gesturing for them to take a seat at the five chairs. “You do not think that I understand that you cannot speak for the Meiji government? I am asking all of you as individuals, to discuss truce measures. I know that I will have to go directly to Tokyo and speak with the Emperor himself if the Chrysanthemum Guards wish to be left in peace.”

“Then why haven't you already done so?” Saitou challenged.

“You of all people should know better than to ask that question, Saitou-san,” the woman stated. “The Genrou controls the government, not the Emperor. We serve the Emperor and pledge no loyalty to the Genrou, whom puppets the Emperor.”

To Kenshin's surprise, and it seemed as well to Okita, Saitou remained silent. While he would have thought that Saitou would have quipped about the assassination orders against the Emperor and Shogun that Sakamoto Oryou had told them about, concerning the 12th Master, it seemed that the former Shinsengumi captain was not going to demonstrate that he had knowledge of those particular orders. He didn't know if such a gambit would work to their advantage, but what he sensed and the expression upon the policeman's face was an acute sharpness that he had not felt for a very long time. It felt exactly like the many times he and his fellow Ishinshishi members were being hunted by the Wolves of Mibu in Kyoto. Saitou was not here for a negotiation – the man was here to hunt and eliminate all threats with extreme prejudice.

Clenching his jaw for a moment, Kenshin knew that he could not speak for Yamagata and the others who made up the Genrou, for he did not know what exactly they were doing except that they were trying to build a more peaceful world for all. However, with such a shrewd way to eliminate the threats against her organization, he knew that this 'negotiation' that she offered would have to be conducted very carefully. He had almost no experience in such negotiations, but in having heard a little from Tetsunosuke about negotiations that he had conducted during his time in the Ezo Republic, perhaps all he needed to do was to try to negotiate a way out for Tatsunosuke, and perhaps something additional to prevent his master from returning to his killing ways. Perhaps that would be enough to stop Saitou and whatever orders he had received from Yamagata.

“You say that you do not want this to escalate,” he said, closing the distance between himself and the table and taking a seat. He heard Soujirou follow suit and was pleased that the young man considered that the more peaceful solution than the rampant killing of Guards members was not the right answer. “I am willing to listen. However, answer this one question, if you would please. Why are you doing this?”

She acknowledged his question with a slight nod of her head before raking her imperious gaze towards the other two, asking, “Are both of you so eager to solve this by violence in a non-violent time? Is that what you former Shinsengumi captains believe that that is your purpose for existing in this new era?”

“If they do not wish for peace, then I shall take them outside and deal with them, Yuna,” Kenshin heard Daisuke state. “Clearly they do not wish to join us in defeating the bigger threat to the people of this country, and only wish to hinder us.”

“Threat?” Saitou barked out in bitter laughter. “Don't be a fool--”

It was Okita who silenced his comrade by placing a hand on Saitou's arm for a brief moment before taking a step forward. “Answer Himura-san's question, Seta-san, and I will accept the offer to join the Chrysanthemum Guards.”

Kenshin was not the only one to openly gape at Okita's declaration before narrowing his eyes. He glanced back towards Saitou – there was absolutely nothing upon the former Third Unit captain's face to give away what he thought about the declaration. He knew that the former First Unit captain was a formidable opponent, but surely this was absurd. After what had happened to young Yuki, surely Okita was not considering baldly aligning himself with such an entity. He could not fathom the reason behind it.

“Will you accept in the same manner that you accepted to become Serizawa's left hand? Do you think that I and the others not know what you did to gain his trust – only to betray him in the end, little wolf?” The teasing nickname that Yuna had attached to the end of her accusation sounded a little too intimate and familiar to Kenshin's ears, but there was no hint of it affecting Okita – at least none that he could see. However, there was a thin smile upon the woman's face, but before anyone could interrupt, she continued, “I will answer Himura-san's question, but will only accept your joining of us on a certain condition.” She turned to Tatsunosuke, saying, “If you would please, Ichimura-san, explain the situation.”

“I... I just want to apologize to everyone, especially to you, Himura-san, for getting you involved in this,” Tatsunosuke shakily began. “Had I known...” the man trailed off and gestured towards Kenshin's master with a hand, but was decidedly shy in looking directly at the glowering and frightening expression that the 13th Master still carried.

Tatsunosuke blew out a breath and seemed to gather some courage into himself before continuing to say, “As you may have heard, I have been decoding documents, specifically foreign documents from the Joseon Kingdom and Russian Empire. Those documents speak of their detailed plans to invade Japan while it is still weakened from Saigo Takamori's rebellion and from what happened over the summer with the foreign agent incursions. The Guards have already known about the threats from Joseon and Russia for a while. Petitions to the Emperor and the government to hear of this have failed. So far, from what I have decoded, Russia will strike here first, at Hokkaido before sweeping down into the main island. Joseon and China have made plans to sweep from from the south. I haven't finished the decoding yet.

“Therefore, the Chrysanthemum Guards have been deploying and activating their agents to prepare for this, though there has been some issues with some of the agents. In the event that the country is taken over by either empires, the Guards have also tried to plant the seeds of an eventual rebellion to rise up against the oppressors. While I personally do not condone their actions in manipulating children in such a fashion, I see no other way for us as a country to survive and fight for our freedom. So please, everyone, please stop fighting. Please see that there is a larger threat beyond our borders that the government is ignoring. They could begin their invasion as soon as spring comes!”

As impassioned of a plea as it was, Kenshin could not shake the uneasy feeling that had bloomed in his stomach – and it was not due to the threat that Tatsunosuke believed was upon the country. It was the first few words out of the man's mouth. “As you may have heard...” he murmured mostly to himself.

His eyes flew wide open with the realization, but it was all for naught as to the back and right from where he was sitting, he saw the partition slide open. Matsumoto stepped in and slid the partition shut, just as Yuna stated, “You have your explanation, Himura-san. And this is the condition that I put forth for your acceptance in joining the Chrysanthemum Guards, Okita-sensei. You, and if you also choose to, Saitou-san, will take opiate-laced tea until you are insensible. Only then will you be allowed to regain your senses under our careful supervision and after that, will you be allowed to join our ranks. As you see here, the Devil of Nagasaki survived the process, so I am confident that both of you will as well.”

Kenshin didn't even have time to fully process the betrayal that they had been dealt with by a person that even Saitou had implicitly trusted. His protest to such an underhanded tactic in this clear one-sided 'negotiation' didn't even take voice when the woman pinned her sharp eyes upon him, saying, “Do not fret, Himura-san. Ichimura-san here has explained his part wonderfully. His brother will not be harmed.” She briefly turned her attention to Matsumoto, asking, “Where is he at the moment?”

“Tied up in the koyagumi,” Matsumoto answered, remaining where she was. “I set him in front of the book his brother was translating to read and pass the time.”

“I applaud your tactic, Seta. Even with the half-baked attempt to make you stumble by my colleague here, you are mistaken to assume that the working relationship that she had with the Shinsengumi are enough to convince either of us to truly join the Guards,” Saitou stated, taking a step forward so that he was standing next to Okita, who kept his expression quite closed. “Our ties do not go that deep.”

“Be that as it may, Saitou-san,” Yuna said, folding her hands together, “I believe that you only speak for yourself. I am inclined to believe that your comrade will side with his _wife_ than side with you.”

It was then that Kenshin realized that everything they tried to hide or thought that the Chrysanthemum Guards didn't know about, was for naught. The Guards knew everything about them and had used that to their full advantage. They truly had agents everywhere, hidden ones that not even the famed Oniwabanshuu could detect. And with the turning of Matsumoto to their cause, just how far were they willing to go? It wasn't about an invasion by foreign powers that they should be worried about, it was the insidious infiltration of such a shadowed organization that the Meiji government needed to defend itself against.

“Then you truly do not understand how the Wolves of Mibu were able to survive for this long, even after your organization decided to discard Serizawa. Every other attempt after that, that you have done to cause so much chaos in Kyoto and beyond was a failed attempt on your part,” Okita stated. “I should apologize for Saitou-san's statement and wish to amend it. Our ties are not that shallow.”

The calm and confident expression that Yuna had thus far completely dropped as Kenshin heard her hiss, “What?”

“Himura-san,” Okita said, taking two steps to his right, with a very familiar and frightening smile upon his face. His left hand was clearly gripping his scabbard with his thumb pushing the guard out slightly enough, ready to draw. “I do not fully understand or know what promise that your master has made with the Chrysanthemum Guards, but if you wish not to be further involved might I suggest that you leave **right now**. These are old Shinsengumi matters that need to be resolved, not Ishinshishi.”

“Pass the information to Yamagata, Battousai,” Saitou followed up, poised in the same manner. “I'm sure he'll find it amusing.”

As much as his own sense of honor pleaded with him to not leave his comrades to fight against the Guards alone, it was only because of the presence of his master sitting to the right of him that overrode all pride within himself. Okita was right – whatever promise had been enacted between the 13th Master and the Guards was still in effect. If he chose to fight right then and there, then right or wrong, he would be forcing his master to break that promise. He could not do that to him.

He stood up and pushed his chair back. A moment later, he saw and heard his master do the same, remaining ever silent, but with a less incensed expression upon his face. Taking one last look at the scowling expression that Yuna now wore, he turned, but was briefly halted from walking away when he also heard Soujirou stand up beside him. He glanced over towards the young man who shook his head slightly but did not offer any comment for his actions.

Looking back up and over towards Saitou and Okita, he walked away from the table, saying, “This one thanks you.”

Neither said a word as they began walking towards the table. He passed them in the middle of the long room, noticing that their eyes were focused ahead upon those swordsmen and women at the table; all of whom were now pushing their chairs back and standing up as well. He could not reach Tatsunosuke, not at the moment, and especially if he did not want to involve his master. He had to choose between Tetsunosuke and Tatsunosuke, and right now, the younger of the two Ichimura brothers would be easier to rescue than the elder. Perhaps once the fighting started, he would be able to slip back in and find a way to get Tatsunosuke to safety. He was sure that as smart as the man was, Tatsunosuke would find some way to avoid being killed in that room.

“Sou-kun,” he heard Yuna softly said with pleading touch in her tone.

Kenshin heard the young man stop, but did not hear him shift to turn and face those at the table. Oddly enough, both Saitou and Okita had also stopped, whereas he would have thought that the two, for all of their mannerisms, would have continued walking towards those still at the table. However, he sensed that they had stilled themselves as he remembered them doing during his first encounter with them in the streets of Kyoto. It was not directed at him though, but rather at a particular person following him out of the room, and that sent a thrill of danger coursing through him. He began to turn back, but it was too late.

“Sou-kun, play with them.”

 

~*~*~*~

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

“Sou-kun, play with them.”

 

“ _Do you believe his story about leaving the Chrysanthemum Guards?”_

“ _Will you be fast enough to draw and kill him?”_

 

The answer was no. It had always been 'no' ever since Okita had first met the young man. But even he was momentarily shaken out of the cold fury that had wrapped itself around his mind and body at just how arrogant those of the Chrysanthemum Guards were. He was surprised at just how callous, how detestable of a thing Seta Yuna had done to _her own son_ , but knew that he should not have been. It only served to add fuel to his anger as he saw young Seta Soujirou clutch his head for a moment, eyes widening in fear or in horror – he couldn't tell.

What he could tell though was that where not a split second before, was an undercurrent of remorse mixed in with just a hint of anger – enough that he could discern intent from the young man if he concentrated – was completely gone the next. It wasn't gone as he read in swordsmen such as Himura who kept their emotions tightly in check. This was vastly different. There was absolutely no hint of emotion that he could read from the young man.

Okita's katana was already three-quarters of a way out of the scabbard, but the answer was still a resounding 'no'. He was crawling as a tortoise would when compared to just how blindingly fast the young man was. In between heartbeats that Seta had clutched his head and then drew his borrowed katana to lunge in for a killing blow at Himura, Himura had not even fully turned from where he had been. The former hitokiri's sakabatou only a quarter of a way out of its scabbard. In that instant, despite pouring as much speed and strength he could into his quick draw, Okita knew that he would never be able to get his own guard up in time by the time Seta was done killing Himura.

For a brief moment, the edge of Seta's blade touched the blunted edge of Himura's sakabatou before a blur of a red-white mantle plowed into the young man. Sweeping up and away by the force of the strike, Seta sailed through the air, smashing into and breaking several partitions before finally smashing through the outer wall of the Magistrate's Office. However, his attacker was not yet done as none of the even had a chance to blink as they saw the 13th Master, Hiko Seijuurou, momentarily flash by their eyes before disappearing from their eyes, chasing after Seta.

By that time, Okita's blade had cleared his scabbard and was in the midst of being angled for a strike, the red-white mantle of Hiko had fluttered to the floor, and the others were in various stages of finishing drawing their swords out. That was also when the report of a gunshot being discharged rang through the air. They all had a moment to blink before the roar of a fiery explosion tore through the back of the long room, sending three of the four enemy swordsmen stumbling. What was left of the bloody chunks of the guards closest to the explosion that seemed to have come from beneath the floor at the edge of the nakaniwa, or courtyard, flew into the air. Streaks of blood and bits splattered across the once-pristine table, partitions, and floor.

While he too had stumbled, flinging up an arm to protect his face as a wave of heat and flecks of hot dirt and debris blew in, Okita had also caught a glimpse of what was happening beyond the massive hole that had been torn into the room. He saw Aya dive towards Tatsunosuke, shielding him from most of the debris with her body. She then snatched him by the front of his clothes, turned, and flung him through the fiery hole and into the nakaniwa, before running and jumping out into the courtyard herself.

He sprinted towards them, just as he saw Midori and Yuna shake off whatever minor injuries they had sustained from the explosion and chase after Aya and Tatsunosuke. _First step... second step... third step..._ Ignoring the fire-laced debris licking up his feet, the menacing presence of Seta Daisuke crashed down in front of him, blocking his way. He managed to bring his sword up in the nick of time to block the powerful overhead strike from the man.

“And where do you think you're going--” Daisuke began.

“ _Kuzuryuusen_!”

The massive pressure upon Okita's blade was alleviated with the screeching scrape of his blade against Daisuke's blade as the swordsman was suddenly sent careening away. Swiftly following the path of architectural destruction being caused by the nine-pointed strike upon Daisuke was Himura. He would have to say his thanks later to the former assassin for intercepting and driving one of the enemy swordsmen out of his path to allow him to catch up with Aya, Midori, and the others.

_Fourth step..._ Involuntarily coughing as he breathed in the thick smoke and gunpowder filled air, he leapt past broken chairs, bamboo slats, and torn partitions.

_Fifth step..._ Just as the smoke cleared enough for him to see through the jagged hole and into the nakaniwa, he looked up to see Tetsu of all people climbing out of the taikoyagura and bounding onto the rooftop before scrambling down, shooting a few guards in the legs with his revolvers who were trying to swarm and jump down into the nakaniwa.

_Sixth step..._ Tatsunosuke was in the midst of picking himself up from a heap on the ground, and Aya had her wakizashi out. Her back was facing Tatsunosuke and she flew up into a guarded position as soon as Midori landed on the ground, blade bared.

_Seventh step...jump!_

“Run, damn you, run!” Aya shouted towards the two brothers as Okita leapt through the hole, with a variant of _Hirasegan_ leading the way. His thrusting strike at Midori missed her by a hair as she broke off contact against Aya's blade and whirled away. He tumbled and rolled forward, pulling himself up and out, arcing his blade to the side as he pivoted on his knee and brought his blade up. It clanged against Midori's blade, sending tremors down both of their arms.

He was not done yet as the momentum of his roll and up into a defensive position gave him the necessary strength to push his blade up and away. Midori was flung back a few steps, as he immediately brought his blade back down into a guard position. He didn't know how Aya had done it – how she had managed to deceive the shrewd, dangerously manipulative, and cunning leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards for this long, but the fact that she had not truly turned was a relief for him. It however, did not douse the cold anger still running through him.

“I have this, Aya,” he said, spotting the leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards between the thick smoke billowing out, flames that were starting to lick the wooden structure of the building, and partitions surrounding other rooms. Either the leader was trying to escape or was going after the Ichimura brothers – it didn't matter at this point any ways since the two goals were mutually the same. “Go.”

He heard her sheathe her blade and without a word to him, bounded off to stop Seta Yuna and make sure that Tetsu and Tatsunosuke successfully escaped. “Ah,” he said a moment later, a dangerous smile tugging on the edges of his lips as he saw his niece attempt to pursue. Sliding over a step to block her, he saw her narrow her eyes, the grip on her blade unwavering as she assessed whether or not it was wise for her to do such a thing.

He had promised his sister and brother-in-law to bring their children home. Kiyoshi was still in Sendai under the watchful eyes of the police, but he could tell that Midori was the same as her brother. They had both joined this organization on their own, but that was not what continued to drive the deep-seated cold anger swirling within him. It was the fact that since the beginning, an evil had been festering and growing around him – around his family, friends, comrades, and even the country – and he along with others had been utterly blind to it until now. Any other person could call it personal, but it was not so for him. He still lived by the tenants that Hijikata had laid down, and personal grudges were not allowed, nor did he ever allow himself to have any.

“Did you promise my mother to bring my brother and I home, traitor?” he heard her hiss, slowly sheathing her sword to prepare for a battoujutsu strike.

“I did,” he hoarsely answered. He could acutely feel his own sweat from just how close they were to the crackling fire licking its way across wood and tile, drip down his face and body, soaking him. A chilly breeze briefly alleviated the heat, but it also loosened parts of the fire-wrought structure. The crackling and crunch of a burning beam from the collapsing building around them sent thick smoke billowing up and towards them. He coughed, not only from the smoke, but also from the fire burning within himself. “But I never did promise _how_ I would bring both of you home, Midori-chan.”

His deliberate dropping of her name and the honorific attached to it did the trick as he saw a flash of pure anger over take her calm expression moments before she snatched her blade out of the scabbard. He read her intent like an open book, and as her blade came flying perilously close to him, he leaned back just a finger length out of the blade's reach, angling his own down. The double-strike of blade arcing just as she spun with the sheath in her left hand for a bone-cracking strike never connected. Just as she whirled to her right, he spun in the same direction as her, stepping widely to his left while bringing his blade straight up to cut into and through her sheathe. He took another step back and around as she completed the spin.

“You may be fast, Midori-chan,” he softly stated, bringing his blade back down in a guard position as the remnants of her scabbard clattered to the ground, “but you don't have the experience.” Her victory in their fight on the outskirts of Tokyo had been pure luck, and the fact that she had overwhelmingly surprised him and used it to her advantage. This time, she didn't have the advantage.

Sliding into the stance he needed to unleash _Sandanzuki_ , he flicked his eyes up at her. She was not as easy to read as she had been a moment ago, and though a part of him was pleased that she learned fast, he knew that his words were still having an impact on her. It would not be Tokyo all over again – he would never let it come to that. “Give up, Midori-chan.”

“Never to you,” she growled. “All I need to do is to wait until the smoke mixed with the fire that must be burning in your lungs from a disease that should have killed you years ago, overwhelms you. The choice is yours, former Shinsengumi First Unit captain. Kneel and face your death with honor as you should have done years ago, or be pitifully killed by the fire, smoke, and your own body.”

“So be it,” he whispered.

* * *

_At the same time, in the Ohiroma, Hakodate Magistrate's Office, Goryokaku..._

 

The two were not much for chatter, not that Saitou wanted inane chatter spewing out of opponents' mouths whenever he fought against them, but they were fast. Smaller in build than Himura, and as short as the Seta boy was, they whirled in and out of his attempts to strike. He spun to the right, bringing his blade up perpendicular to the ground just as the crash and crackle of the wall to his left and ceiling partially collapsed, sending a hot spray of embers into the air.

Unfortunately, Saitou was not able to take that momentary advantage as he saw out of the corner of his eyes, that one of the twins was charging in with a pin pointed thrust, trying to catch him off guard if he tried to strike the other twin who was dodging the fiery debris. He turned to the left and brought up his blade, scratching half of its length against her blade. He pushed back with all of his strength against her, gritting his teeth as his vision briefly watered with a thick bloom of smoke wafting around.

While the thrust itself was quite powerful, it had looked and felt like a cross between _Gatotsu_ and _Hirasegan_. It was mirrored, but not quite perfect. His senses flared as he immediately flung himself to the side, letting her take full advantage of her weight pressing upon their formerly locked blades. He felt the tip of the woman's blade cut into his right chest and arm. While the cut was deeper than he anticipated, her momentum carried her straight into her sister, who had tried to ambush him from behind.

He planted his feet into the ground and immediately spun from where he had stopped. Unleashing _Gatotsu – Zero Shiki_ , the tip of his blade smashed straight into the swordswoman who had tried to ambush him from behind. She had barely dodged her sister's failed strike at him but knew that she was too close to do anything else other than _Ryuukansen_. Like the Battousai's rather arrogant statement last year during their rematch, Saitou had seen enough of the ex-assassin's favorite moves to find one or two ways to counter them.

The force of his full-strength, point-blank strike, along with the woman's beginnings of the whirling defensive counterattack struck. However, because he had the advantage of momentum already built up, he easily sliced into her defenses. Whether it was pure luck or something else entirely, his blade plunged into her left arm and in between the upper chest cavity's ribs, but it didn't stop there. He had just enough force to send the blade about six inches into her side and heart before it snapped with her spin.

The combined momentum also sent her flying away from him. If the blade in her heart did not kill her, her unceremonious crash into the burning partitions, as she landed in a burning heap into the nakaniwa, did. Saitou immediately leapt back, but was not fast enough to escape most of the burning embers. He could feel the fire sear and lick into his skin as he clamped his left hand still holding his broken blade on his right arm for a moment.

There was not enough time to completely extinguish the flame upon his arm as he brought what was left of his blade up, blocking the other swordswoman's _Ryuutsuisen_ strike. Though it was slower than he had anticipated, it was still quite a powerful blow. The force of the strike drove him into and through the burning tatami mats. However, he immediately clamped a hand down on the handle of the swordswoman's blade. She had neither screamed in agony at the fact that her sister had just been killed, nor blatantly telegraphed her intent as most people when seeing a loved one die, were wont to do. Very few had ever surprised him with such discipline, and as much as he distasted it, he counter her as one of those few. But it was only for a moment, for using his height to his advantage, he forced her arms up.

Ignoring the pain from his wounds that clawed at him, he viciously kicked the woman in the chest before she could do the same to him. For a brief moment, he could feel something inside of her give way as she too, flew back, crashing and ripping into what was left of the collapsing room and building around them. Wasting no time as she flew into the nakaniwa as well, he followed her, for in that brief moment in which they had locked blades, he had sensed that she was slowing down.

It was not much, but it was enough for him to discern that she was afflicted with the same 'disease' that lived within the Battousai. And after observing and watching how the ex-assassin fought since last year, that unknown 'disease' was now clear to him. Hiten Mitsurugi was never meant to be wielded by people as short or slight as the Battousai or the two Seta twins. The wolf within him growled in satisfaction as he jumped from the burning, smoke-choking room and into the less smoke-filled courtyard, spying his prey on curled up in a heap in a corner, struggling to get up. This was a weakness that he could greatly exploit.

~~~

Okita stepped in and twisted his body towards Midori as she involuntarily dodged the flying body had been thrown from inside of the what was left of the ohiroma and out to here. The first body that had crashed into the courtyard a few minutes before had been the half-burnt and quite dead body of one of the Seta twins. There was still part of a katana lodged within the dead woman, but neither of them had paused in their fighting to acknowledge the dead.

Grabbing the front of his niece's clothes, he dropped down, lashing a foot back with a kick that connected with her foot before hurling her over his shoulder with all of his strength. She flew and skidded across the debris-covered courtyard, just as he glanced up to see Saitou leap out of the fiery inferno that had engulfed that portion of the building. Thick tendrils of smoke curled up upon his comrade's burnt clothes and singed hair, but both of their attentions were diverted from the heap that the other Seta twin had landed in when the twisting and screech of something metal giving away clawed across the roar of the fire.

Both he and Saitou jumped back just as the taikoyagura suddenly came crashing down into the nakaniwa, separating him from Midori, who was seemingly trapped on the other side. The collapse of the watchtower sent choking smoke, clouds of dirty dust and dirt, and a wave of burning heat towards them. Coughing, he could barely see his niece through the smoke as she tried to get up and get out from being surrounded by fire. His eyes were watering and the hazy agonizing pain that he suffered from the wounds that Midori had inflicted upon him as also affecting what was left of his strength. His own lungs were also burning from the lack of cool air or deep breaths that would not come. He couldn't summon the strength to leap over the fiery remnants of the watchtower and help her escape.

That immediately became the least of his worries as the blur of the swordswoman that Saitou had been fighting immediately filled his vision as he brought his bloodied blade up with a _clang_. Gritting his teeth, he channeled what strength he had left and pushed back, his _ki-ai_ aiding him. Just as the pressure upon his blade increased, he sensed Saitou sprinting in and as soon as the woman's blade started to scrape up against his own, he sprang back as close to the burning building behind him as he dared. Sliding out of the way, his sudden disappearance against her caused her to go slightly off-balance, but it was enough to allow Saitou to charge in from the side and skewer her with _Gatotsu_.

Whirling to his left, he countered the momentum of his comrade's attack with his own, as she tried to leap out of the way just before what was left of Saitou's blade pierced her. While the wound scraping across her clothes and the surface of her stomach was initially shallow, his blade was already aimed towards her right arm and side. She threw up her blade towards her right, determined to block that side to prevent his own from biting into her, but that was not his aim.

Slamming the flat of his blade into the perpendicular edge of her own, he used her shifting weight to evade Saitou's strike against her. He drove her back towards the angle that she had originally tried to dodge. The force of his hit was enough to send her back and allow Saitou's _Gatotsu_ to fully sink its teeth into her stomach. She howled in pain and immediately scraped her blade up against his, spinning and trying to yank Saitou's broken blade out. It was too late for her though, as Okita saw Saitou draw the broken blade up through the middle of her rib cage, letting a gush of sticky hot blood and intestines spill out before kicking her away.

The gutted swordswoman flopped to the ground, glassy-eyed. Okita tried to contain his heavy, wracking coughs as much as possible as he wiped his own stinging sweat and the spray of her blood from his face. He was determined not to sink to a knee just to rest – his pride and the fact that they needed to get out of here as soon as possible prevented him from doing so. He saw Saitou toss his own broken blade away before picking up the dead woman's katana. His gaze traveled to beyond where his comrade was and try as he might, he could no longer see beyond the fallen taikoyagura – the smoke and fire were too thick. It was too late to save Midori.

“Let's go,” Saitou said, gesturing with the new katana to behind him before passing him by and leaping up into the small area beyond the nakaniwa. If he remembered correctly, the room was the koyagumi. Though flames licked at him, burning him in areas where the fire had already burnt through clothing, this particular area was still surprisingly structurally sound – or as sound as a room could be surrounded by fire.

Clearing his throat as he coughed again, he saw Saitou pause for a moment before kneeling down for a moment to pick up a thick, half-burnt book. Spotting a zaisu that was not burnt yet, Okita flicked his blade as clean as he could get it, before sheathing it. Picking up the zaisu, he took a couple of steps back as Saitou wisely stepped to the side. Tossing the legless chair, it crashed through the smoking, but not yet burning partitions, revealing a thick outer wall that surrounded nearly the entire building.

Saitou stepped back into the path of where he had thrown the zaisu, handing the half-burnt book to him. He rifled through a few pages that had not been burnt yet, noting that there were Chinese characters and different ones written as he saw Saitou preparing a _Gatotsu_ to break through the wall. He didn't know what exactly was in the book, but considering what Tatsunosuke had implored to them before the decidedly one-sided negotiation had broken down, he suspected that perhaps this had something to do with it.

Looking up as he snapped the book shut, he heard a tremendous crash that came from the building's outer wall being broken. Something either next to them or near them that had also collapsed at almost the same time. He tossed the book back to Saitou, drew his sword, and followed him out. Breezy, cold air, along with thick grey clouds that were partially from the weather and billowing from the burning building greeted him. While the sweet, cold air did nothing to alleviate the painfully burning sensation crawling across his lungs with each breath he took, he drew on the cold to cool and wick away the sweat and heat from fighting within such a hot area and invigorate his strength.

The sounds of gunshots, a rapid _pow-pow-pow_ sound drew both of them towards south-western area of the fort. The sound most likely came from Tetsu's revolvers, and from the clanging of the warning bell and the sounds of rifles returning fire, none of them could call this a victory just yet. Wounded, but with bared fangs, the two Wolves of Mibu dove once more back into the hunt.

* * *

_Meanwhile, at the southern inner edges of Goryokaku..._

 

Since before the days of the Shogunate, every generation of the Seta family had produced one exceptional swordsman or swordswoman. Not every generation had had their best selected to carry on the name of Hiko Seijuurou, but with the exception of certain individuals, all descendants were trained in Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. However, that dedication to the form, to the duty that encompassed the lives of the clan who wholeheartedly served the Chrysanthemum Guards, had broken with the succession from the 12th Master to the 13th Master.

Hiko blocked the quick left-right strike before he swept down, pouring as much power into the sweep as he could. What the boy in front of him made up for the lack of raw strength, he definitely made up for speed. _Shukuchi_ , achievable only by few even within the clan who guarded and practiced the most powerful sword style in Japan, was something that was not taught to practitioners. Only those who developed a natural affinity and gift for it achieved mastery of it.

Quickly sheathing his blade just as he saw the boy zip from rock to rooftop and back down. The force and swiftness of his leap from point to point collapsed part of the rooftop. Hiko drew his blade again as fast as he could, building up enough force to counter the lightning fast top-down strike.

The Seta boy was certainly an exceptional one in regards to the next generation of practitioners. He had a masterful control over _shukuchi_ , footwork, form, and speed. But had Hiko remained, had he decided to continue to pass on Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu as had been done generations before, he would have never chosen the boy as his successor. The boy was too slight and too small – he would have never been able to wield the sword style in full. Had he also known before hand as to just how not-tall his idiot apprentice would grow to, he would have also never chosen Kenshin for that same reason.

Pressing his blade as close as possible towards the boy, he flung his arms and blade up. Immediately, he lashed out with his left foot and as the boy dodged the first one, he dropped his foot and spun again, snap-kicking with his right. The boy managed to get part of his arm up to block his kick at his head before suddenly dropping to the ground. He was momentarily thrown off balance.

Hiten Mitsurugi was never meant to be wielded by slight people for such a long time, and though he could start to see the visible effects of the toll upon his idiot apprentice. His younger sisters, the twins, Sachiko and Hikari, were already outwardly showing the symptoms. They still continued to fight, and still held themselves to the corrupted ideals of what the Chrysanthemum Guards was. They would rather die for a false ideal than admit that they were wrong.

The boy's sword snapped towards the ground in a thrust that was meant to drive from bottom up. Because he was slightly off balance, Hiko twisted back and snapped his blade up with a purely defensive variation of _Ryuushousen_. The boy jumped into the air to get out of his initial range and he immediately swept that into an attempt to chop the boy's legs off than anything else.

Strength was one thing, speed was the other, and because of what he heard what happened to his idiot apprentice during the Shishio incident last year, making sure that the Seta boy did not engage Kenshin was his priority. He knew that his idiot apprentice no longer had the strength or speed to match the boy. If Yuna wanted to carelessly toss away decades of peace just to win, he was all too willing to oblige her and show her just how high of a price it would come to after he was finished putting down Seta Soujirou. There would be no entity known as the Chrysanthemum Guards left when he was done; centuries of their guardianship over the country would end right here and now.

Slicing his blade forward again, the boy landed and immediately sprung back with a one-handed flip. Landing lightly on the ruins of what used to be a storehouse next to the fortress walls for something, but was now just as mass of splinters and piles of wood and stone, there was a thin smile upon the boy's face. He was not even breathing heavily, and Hiko paused for a heartbeat – it was quite possible that the boy could actually dodge a _shukuchi_ -enhanced _Kuzuryuusen_.

He had told Kenshin that there was a way to block _Kuzuryuusen_. While _that_ block was the final, inheritance technique, what he had neglected to add to that was the fact that someone with the _shukuchi_ ability could dodge _Kuzuryuusen_ as well. While his idiot apprentice did have the beginnings of the _shukuchi_ ability, Hiko had never built or developed upon it, for he knew that combining both would have put his apprentice's body under too much stress. He had also never thought his idiot apprentice would ever fight against a swordsman who could achieve _shukuchi_. But with the way the inheritance technique was developed, as devastating as it was for someone of Kenshin's calibre and compacted strength to use it, it paled in comparison to what every previous Hiten Mitsurugi master displayed.

_Kuzuryuusen_ and _Amakakeruryuu no Hirameki_ were designed to be used with both _shukuchi_ and the strength that he and all previous masters possessed. The question now wasn't that if Seta Soujirou could easily evade _Kuzuryuusen_ , but if the boy could evade the final technique if he, Hiko, used his full strength and speed as he did all those years ago to kill his master.

 

~*~*~*~

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_Year: Past, Summer 1854_

 

“What do you know of the arrival of the Black Ships?”

He looked up from poking the fire with a stick, frowning as he wondered why his master would ask him such a question when almost all Japanese who could hear or read, even in remote villages, knew what had happened. “Popular opinion from the south is that the Shogun capitulated too easily to the foreigners. Opinions towards the north range from those in the south to staunch support that the Shogun has done all that he could to prevent war from immediately breaking out. However, most are still quite terrified of the arrival of the black ships. We also now have a treaty with the Americans that some consider unfair. Shimoda and Hakodate are port-of-calls for their assistance. There's still a ban on direct trading, but there are strong rumors that southern cities such as Nagasaki are ignoring that ban.”

There was an unusually grim look upon his master's face when he finished his brief explanation. The light from the fire that flickered and played over the waxing and waning shadows made that grim expression look even more haunted. He briefly wondered if he said anything wrong, but not a moment later, his master reached into his uwagi and pulled out a thick, folded sheaf of paper and handed it over to him.

Silently taking it, he opened it up and read through it. It was completely encoded, but he understood what it was saying. A man by the name of Ichimura had designed the encryption long ago and since then, every person who grew up as he and his master had done within their 'clan' learned how to read the true message buried within the encryption.

Before he had been selected by his master to become the inheritor to his master's name and title, he never understood why they needed to encrypt message for that seemed more of an underhanded way to conduct business – that is until his master had patiently explained the reason. There were many people in the country whom, if they found out the true power and worth of the 'clan', would seek to only use them for their own gains – petty or otherwise. To keep themselves from such machinations, they encrypted everything they wrote.

When he was done reading the orders, there was a clear frown upon his face and he now understood why there was such a grave look upon his master's face. Handing it back, he waited a few moments to ask his master the one question that burned within his mind, but was surprised when he saw his master not return the documents to his uwagi but rather toss it into the campfire. Startled, he looked up, asking, “Why?”

“There were more details to that order, my apprentice,” his master answered, looking far older than he really should have looked. “I made a copy of the first few pages because the rest of the pages detail locations of the rotation and number of guards, structure and layout of compounds...details that will change even with the best at the moment information we can get. Those orders are buried within a lockbox and kept safe by a friend of mine named Sakamoto in Tosa.”

That explained where his master had abruptly taken off to when he had woken up early in the morning a few weeks ago, and found himself seemingly abandoned in their camp just off the Tokaido Road. He had stayed where he was, thinking more that his master had something to do that needed to be done on his own, rather than actually think that his master had abandoned him. As distant as his master was towards him, both of them knew of the seriousness of training a successor apprentice. Thus, with the return of his master early this afternoon, his hunch was proved right.

His master held up a key and handed it over to him, saying, “I expect you to keep this safe.”

As much as he wanted to question the reason why _he_ a mere apprentice, even though he was the inheritor apprentice, was being entrusted with such a valuable item, he didn't question it and accepted the key. Since learning more than what was introduced to all apprentices of the purpose of their 'clan' and their studies of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, he had found himself increasingly at odds with what the 'clan' felt needed to be done to continue to protect what they had been charged with long ago. Of course, he had never voiced his opinions to anyone else, not even his master. He knew that while his thoughts were aligned the overall philosophy of what the 'clan' had been entrusted with, as of late, there had been some rather heated contention between those who led the 'clan' and their purpose.

“Master,” he began, as a strange feeling – hesitation – filled him for a brief moment, temporarily stymieing his words. Should he tell his master of his own thoughts? Was it because of what his master had just asked him about the Black Ships that he could freely express his own opinions to him without the fear of not becoming the inheritor of his master's name and title? He didn't know, but considering the orders that their 'clan' leader had just handed down to his master and the fact that it would take both him and his master to carry out the order... “Master, I humbly apologize for this, but I do not agree that the orders should be carried out at this time.”

“And why do you think that, my apprentice?” his master asked in a patient tone, expression giving away nothing that he felt.

“We've never directly interfered with the people and their leaders. Why should we do so now? If we carry out these orders, we would be no better than some ronin or disgraced clan seeking glory and trying to usurp power. When the populace finds out who carried out those assassinations, they would then seek to twist what we have done into their own propaganda, thereby using not only the secret of our 'clan' but also of our abilities.”

The silence that stretched before him and his master was quite uncomfortable and long, but there was still nothing in his master's expression to give any indication as to what he felt about what was just said. The crackling of the fire that sat between them, chirping of the crickets and cicadas were the only thing that filled the silence. His master suddenly shifted and stood up, eyes gleaming with a look that he had seen many a times before.

“Come,” his master said after a moment, gesturing with a hand for him to follow. “Let us see how much you have improved during my absence. Leave the your cloak on,” he stated.

As stifling hot as it was in the summer heat, he didn't even feel it as acutely as he done before he had become the inheritor apprentice. His master had him train in worse conditions than just in overwhelming heat. The cloak that he wore was dusty dark-grey cloak with bright blue-lining, the opposite coloring of his master's grand white and red-lined cloak. However, the material and how it was made to contain the strength and speed of any wielder of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was still the same. All apprentices wore the dark-grey cloak – no one was allowed the white-red mantle unless he was the Master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu.

As his master took up his stance a little ways away from the campfire, he followed suit, suitably judging the distance between them. Whether or not the answer to his opinion that he had finally given to his master would be given in this sparring session, he was pleased that at least he could show his master that he had not been doing nothing during his absence.

Crouching down, he angled his scabbard and hilt of his blade slightly outwards. His left hand was wrapped around his scabbard, with the tip of his thumb poised and poking the guard of the blade slightly out from its housing. His right was half-curled towards the hilt. Not a moment later, he sprang forward like lightning – with _Souryuusen_ on its way to being unleashed.

* * *

_Three weeks later..._

 

“Out of the two, which one would you think would cause more chaos if assassinated first, my apprentice?”

He glanced over at his master in puzzlement as he tended to the dying fire of an early morning. They were camped out on a cliff over looking the valley below. Kyoto, the ancient city where the Emperor sat and ruled over the land before the Shogun had taken effective power almost two hundred and fifty years ago, sat nestled in the valley. It was a beautiful sight, and even with the dawning light of the sun not yet spilled over the mountains that surrounded Kyoto, the city seemed to glitter like a treasured jewel.

“The Emperor,” he answered. “Though no longer imbued with any true power, he is still the symbol of the people. Even the Shogun still has to answer to him, as we have been hearing rumors of. The Emperor has requested in inquiry as to what had happened during the meeting with the foreigners. Is that not why we're here at Kyoto now?”

He had not received an answer or any other indication as to what his master thought of of his opinion with regards to the assassination orders they had been given. Though he still maintained that the orders were too much of a heavy hand and was quite unnecessary in the face of the arrival of the Black Ships, he still followed his master. As for the actual orders themselves, his master had not even discussed it since showing it to him – that is until now.

“Come, my apprentice,” his master said, completely ignoring his question while slowly standing up before adjusting his cloak slightly, and walked from the dying campfire. “You are to keep your cloak on at all times until I say you can remove it. It is time to teach you the inheritance technique that you may need to use in the near future.”

He gave a start as he stared at his master's back, the red-white mantle fluttering in the summer morning breeze. He couldn't believe that his master thought him ready to inherit the name and title, but after a moment, he realized that something was strange, something was wrong. It was not about the inheritance of Hiten Mitsurugi, but rather in his master – was he about to receive his master's answer with regards to all that he had stated in the past about their orders?

Scrambling up, he followed and stopped just short of within the striking distance of his master. His master turned around and drew out his sword, setting it out in front of him, saying, “This is my favorite move, which hits all nine areas that one could hit with a sword – _Kuzuryuusen_. Stand still and I will show you how it is done.”

He obeyed, and before he could even blink, he felt the rushing breeze of his master pass by him. Of course, standing as still as he did, one could not normally see how the technique was done, but because he had trained for so long with his master, he was just as fast in watching and reacting standing still as he was moving. Thus, he saw all nine areas where the tip of his master's sword had just scratched at him.

Turning around as he saw his master skid to a stop, red-white cloak fluttering before settling down. Bringing his sword up in the same stance as his master had done just moments ago, he waited for the moment when his master started to turn back towards him and charged in. It was expected of him to perform and practice the technique immediately after seeing it for the first and only time – there were no second-time chances whenever he learned. He also knew that it was the sole reason why he, out of his brothers and sisters, had been chosen as the inheritance apprentice – he was the only one of them able to pick up the forms of Hiten Mitsurugi without having it being demonstrated more than once.

He struck all nine points, just as his master returned the favor. Their power and speed in which they unleashed the technique was equal, and neither could land a single hit upon each other. Skidding to a halt, he picked himself up and turned. For the first time, the strangest of looks appeared upon his master's face – that of satisfaction. It was such a strange look that he was quite dumbfounded as to what to make of it.

“What,” his master spat out, that satisfied look slipping to pure annoyance, “is there something on my face?”

“No,” he answered, vehemently shaking his head, knowing that he would probably only get a thorough beat down by his master if he said anything otherwise.

“Equal power begets equal power,” his master stated, returning to the lesson at hand. “Though you will most likely never encounter someone with as great of a power as either you or I, you know of the possibility that there are those outside of our 'clan' who posses a natural _shukuchi_ ability.” His master lifted one hand from the hilt of his sword, saying, “If I--” his master's cloak was immediately shrugged off “--decide to come at you with my full power, how will you block such an attack?”

He immediately made to remove his own cloak, but remembered his master's words at the beginning of the lesson – he was not to remove his cloak unless his master said so. He was bound to his master and the first and last time he had disobeyed his master had not been pleasant at all for him. At full power, his master was terrifying, even to him – with the _shukuchi_ ability and the full strength of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, his master was nigh unstoppable.

He glanced down at his sword – he could feel that it was weakening and whatever he came up with to block _Kuzuryuusen_ would probably be the only chance he got. Normal swords such as the one he and his brothers and sisters used in their training never survived more than three or four attacks using their sword style's forms. He would have to get a new sword somewhere in Kyoto if he were to help out his master after this. Looking back up, his eyes couldn't help but stray towards his master's blade – the only one in existence that could withstand the **full** power of Hiten Mitsurugi. It, along with with mantle, and name, was inherited – passed down through the generations.

Thinking back upon his master's words and how the nine-strike was performed, there was only one solution that he could think of. A battoujutsu draw, but faster than what he could already do – but how to go about doing such a thing when it was already impossible to go faster? Crouching down, he sheathed his sword and angled himself for the stance – he would have to try. Considering that his master had come at him with a flicker of intent to kill just moments ago, there was no doubt in his mind that his master disapproved of what he felt about the orders they had been given. He was now fighting for his life and his try could either save him or kill him.

“Good, you understand,” his master said. “You may remove your cloak.”

“Thank you, master,” he said, shrugging his cloak off. His grateful statement was not only for the fact that he would be allowed to finally use his full power in an attempt to save his own life, but also for everything that his master had taught him thus far. This final technique and lesson was the answer he had been seeking.

The instant his master disappeared from his eyes was also the instant he did as well. Equal in speed and power, he could see the strike coming. He needed to try, he needed to live, he didn't want to die, he needed to draw his sword _faster_ – and stepped in with his right and _left_ foot. The power and speed at which his sword was drawn from its scabbard exploded forth and smashed into his master's _Kuzuryuusen_ just as the tip of his master's blade started to bite into him.

Skidding to a halt on the hard-packed dirt, he was barely aware that the force of his impact against his master's blade had blown several layers of trees in the woods that surrounded their small clifftop camp down. All he knew was that he was breathing incredibly hard... until the silence that enveloped the newly created clearing gave way to something that sounded like water dripping. It sounded too close to him to be a stream, for there was none up here, and with a realization of horror, he glanced back towards his blade. Blood covered at least from the tip down to a third of it, and it was slowly sliding down the rest of the way while dripping onto the floor.

Further back, was where his master had landed – in a heap on the ground. His master's sword had clattered to the ground in next to him. There was a dark brown-red stain pooling on the ground where his master laid, and it was rapidly expanding. His eyes widened even further as he realized what exactly had happened – his full power had been amplified with the faster drawing of his blade in an attempt to stop his master from killing him, and he had completely shattered _Kuzuryuusen_.

“Master!” he yelled, dropping his sword, not even paying attention to the fact that it shattered into millions of pieces upon hitting the ground. Running to where his master was laying, unmoving, he knelt down, but even as he turned the body of his master over, he knew that it was too late. A large, long gash, running from his master's waist right up through and past chest left could barely be seen amongst the blood and guts that had spilled out from the strike.

It was not the carnage wrought that shocked him the most though – it was the fact that there was an incredibly peaceful expression upon his master's face. Even in death, his master's face was not contorted in agony as both he and his master had observed on their victims in more than one occasion. “Was this...” he began, but could not finish his words or the question he wanted to ask but knew that he could no longer receive the answer to.

As his eyes strayed all over his master's body in a futile attempt to calm his mind from what he had done, the fluttering of something small, folded and surprisingly white caught his attention. Considering the amount of blood that had been spilt, he was surprised that the small folded message, letter, whatever it had been, tucked into the scabbard of his master's sword, was not stained. Taking the scabbard, he plucked at the folded missive until it slid out. Though they were not of the samurai class, the 'clan' governed themselves as if they were, and thus he thought that perhaps this was a death poem of sorts – as if his master knew that his own death was a possibility upon teaching him _Kuzuryuusen_.

Opening it, he read through it: [ _The final technique's name is_ Amakakeru Ryuu no Hirameki _. It is the only technique performed for the first time by the apprentice upon the master to inherit Hiten Mitsurugi. I agree with everything that you have said, my idiot apprentice, but unlike you, my hands were bound to carrying out the orders. I thank you for releasing me from those orders._ ]

He didn't know how long he sat there, with his knees, shins, and hakama soaking in the puddle of his master's blood, clutching the small note. It was only until the sun spilled into his eyes, along with the sound of footsteps approaching did he finally shake himself out of his reverie. He glanced back to see the leader of their 'clan' approaching and wondered how on earth their leader was able to find them. He wasn't aware that they had been followed by the 'clan' leader since their departure from home several months ago. Their 'clan' leader usually did not partake in the more visible aspects of what they did, preferring to work in the shadows of the samurai and commoners alike.

“Though the 12th Master may be dead, we have witnessed and confirmed that you have inherited all the skills necessary to continue to dispatch the orders given to him. Preparations have been made in Kyoto and Edo and we will await your report of the results in the usual place, 13th Master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Hiko Seijuurou.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he realized exactly what his master had addressed to him in the death note within his scabbard. Those orders that he and his master had read – they had been specifically addressed to the 12th Master, and though the simple note, his master's true thoughts had been conveyed to him. His master must have known then that they were being followed and that whoever had been following them must have listened in to what they discussed. Their leader thought of him as disagreeing with his master, there by putting forth a kill order or worse to continue to bind his master to the orders given. It was how he and his master usually dealt with those who betrayed their 'clan' and ideals of the 'clan'. He had never thought otherwise until now.

How wrong of an assumption that was... for both him and the 'clan' leader who stood before him.

Slowly wrapping his hand around the katana that had belong to his master and all masters before him, he gripped it until his knuckles turned white. He had never been bound to all previous orders that his master had carried out, along with the most recent despicable ones. Thus his honor as a swordsman and to the true ideals of Hiten Mitsurugi would not be tarnished, for he now understood just how manipulative those of the 'clan' were. _They_ were the ones who tarnished the ideals of the style he and all others studied. _They_ were the ones who sought to control instead of free and protect the people.

The final message that his master left him fluttered to settle on top of his master's body as he slowly stood up and fully turned to face the 'clan' leader. “As the 13th Master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, I am done being used by the Chrysanthemum Guards,” he declared. “You and everyone else within are no longer worthy. Prepare yourself.”

“Wha--” the leader began, but didn't even get to complete the surprise exclamation as Hiko Seijuurou attacked.

* * *

_Year: Past, Summer 1856_

_Two years later..._

 

Hiko flicked his blade clear of the chunks of bits and bone matter that had gotten stuck to his sword. While it was completely useless to even try to flick the thick coating of blood off, he dared not sheathe it – it would only get stuck within the scabbard at this point in time. Continuing to walk down the hall, he finally got to his destination and flung open the partitions.

Several guardsmen, along with his sisters and brother were in the room. An assortment of naginatas, swords, and matchlock rifles were pointed at him, held nervously by the guards, but it was the calm demeanor of his family standing behind that surprised him. “Leave,” he stated towards the guardsmen, gesturing towards the sides of the room, his red-white mantle fluttering slightly with his movement. “Leave now if you want to live.”

They killed; they all did, for the guards, and even his youngest siblings, the twins, Sachiko and Hikari, would have grown up to do so, but he would stop that right here and now. He didn't want to kill in front of his family, didn't want to scar the twins more than what they were already going to see when they went outside. He was tired of it all – tired of killing, but if he stopped now, he and his family would never be left alone by the Chrysanthemum Guards. He had to get them out while he still could and then finish what he had started. He could not let the Guards continue with their machinations that would spell doom for the entire country. What good intentions they had in 'guiding' the people centuries ago was now corrupt.

“They're not leaving,” he heard Yuna speak up, stepping forward and past the nervous guards. “We're not either. You are Hiko Seijuurou. You are no longer our brother. You have no family. You'll have to kill us all and paint our blood upon the walls, because unlike you, we believe in what the Chrysanthemum Guards stand for. Order.”

“Chaos,” he spat back at her, tightening his grip on his katana. She was the second-born of the household, and thus upon his naming as inheritance apprentice to the 12th Master, he had forgone all decision making within the family, though at that time, he had not forgone his name. Unlike most Japanese households, even commoner ones, she became the heir to their family. Thus her disavow of his belonging within the Seta family was binding – he had the name of Hiko Seijuurou, but he no longer had a family.

“Can you do it, Hiko?” she asked, not in a goading tone, but in one that sought affirmation. “Can you truly become a demon and kill children? Can you still call yourself a master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu when you as an apprentice, _vowed_ to protect the people?”

Hiko frowned as his eyes snapped to the twins. They were no more than six or seven years of age, but far be it that there was a look of pure terror in their eyes – they had eyes that were much older than they should have been. It was the same look he remembered shining through his master's eyes – eyes too old for the 'ideal' world they lived in. They were already being exposed to the same philosophy, same lessons, and same corruption as he had been exposed to. He now knew that Yuna and the others would not follow him, no matter what he said. Their ears and eyes were already closed to him.

He could not let the Guards continue with their machinations, but neither could he continue with his wholesale slaughter. His own words to his master floated to the surface as he felt his blade tip start to drop slightly – he thought he was carrying out justice in the name of his master and the ideals of their sword style, but it was clear now that he had made a terrible mistake. All he had done was murder people – innocent or otherwise. Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was supposed to protect...

“Let me live the rest of my life in peace, Yuna,” he said, allowing the tip of his sword to completely drop from his guarded stance to a passive one. “In exchange for not slaughtering everyone, I shall neither interfere if the Chrysanthemum Guards or their proxy agents, if left in peace and alone, from whatever you will do in the future.”

There was a moment of silence before Yuna said, “Very well.”

* * *

_Year: Past, January 1863_

_In the woods of Arashiyama, many years later..._

 

_That idiot_ , he thought as he pour himself another cup of sake and downed it one gulp while staring at the small fire that was burning in the hearth. No amount of beating physical or word wise, had gotten through his idiot apprentice's thick skull. He had thought he had done right by guiding Kenshin though the tenants of Hiten Mitsurugi, but it looked like his idiotic apprentice was too vested in the interest of those below.

Damn the Shogun and Emperor, along with their ideological clashes concerning the foreigners. Many wanted to expel the foreigners while others were resisting the Emperor's call to the Shogun to deal with the crisis – Kyoto below was rapidly becoming a bloodbath as the calls for _sonno-joi_ were heard against the backdrop of those proclaiming to 'keep the peace' in the name of the Shogun and Emperor. While he knew that part of those clashes were from those of the Guards riling up the populace to enact the change they had wanted to so many years ago, but had been thwarted; the other part was also from the pent up frustrations of the samurai.

The commoners and innocents were being swept up in this, and he knew that it was a very dangerous time to get involved, hence his lack of concern. However, it seemed that he had either done a poor job conveying it to his apprentice, or his apprentice was a lot more mule-headed than he had initially thought. Now, it was no matter – they had broken ties. His only saving grace was the fact that Yuna had the foresight to come visit him all those years ago to amend their agreement. He never thought he would be grateful to that woman after all that had happened.

While he knew that his idiot apprentice would only get used by those down below, even by proxy war, his amended agreement with the Guards would prevent them from becoming too involved. While he wasn't sure that they might not attempt to assassinate the Emperor or Shogun, whatever side Kenshin decided to join down below was a deterrent, no matter how one looked at it.

Bitterly smiling, he poured himself another cup, drank it all, and pour himself two more cups before finally tasting rancor in the sake. There it was, the taste that he had been seeking since his idiot apprentice walked out of his life early this morning. He, Hiko, had not even deigned to go back outside and sweep the snow prints clean yet so that no person could accidentally wander by, for he was still quite angry – at both himself and at his apprentice.

Tossing the cup aside and corking the bottle, he placed it on top of a chest with a thump, stood up, and swept up his mantle upon his shoulders. Stalking outside into the bitter cold, he noted that the stars were shining quite annoyingly brighter than usual tonight. No new snow had fallen either and in the shining moonlight, he could see the imprints of his former apprentice's feet heading away from the hut.

Picking up a broom, he headed towards down the rocky, almost in-navigable path until it intersected a main path around this part of the mountain. He began to sweep back and forth, walking backwards as he covered both his idiot apprentice's footsteps and his own. Agreement or not, he himself kept breaking his own promises and declarations to himself – and to his former master. By allowing Kenshin to leave, he was no better than those of the Chrysanthemum Guards, for in a twisted way, he was using the boy as a deterrent to prevent the Guards from achieving whatever goals they were striving for.

For all of his proclamations of neutrality and of people down below who would only use Hiten Mitsurugi to achieve their own selfish goals to Kenshin, he was just as manipulative as them as well. He hated himself for that.

* * *

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

_Goryokaku, Hakodate, Hokkaido_

 

The final technique was the tip of the sword balanced upon the weight of the world – successfully executed only between the edge of life and death. However, for all that he knew of what it could do, he had never used it beyond the first time he had executed it. It was not distaste of what it could do to a man that caused him to not use it, but rather he had found it more efficient to kill using _Kuzuryuusen_. However, now with the possibility that the Seta boy would be able to dodge the technique, would prove to be tricky in how and when he was going to be able to unleash the succession technique.

The boy had blocked or counterattacked every other form of Hiten Mitsurugi. Hiko had no doubts that however long the boy had spent with the Guards had been put to use by studying and developing such techniques. Yuna certainly wouldn't have triggered whatever had changed the boy from what he could assume was truly a remorseful demeanor that had come as a result of fighting Kenshin, to the most dangerous opponent and person that he had fought against – not if she was quite confident that the Guards would emerge victorious.

Taking two steps back as he warily eyed the boy, he flicked his blade and sheathed it. It would be useless for him to attempt _Kuzuryuusen_ , even with the _shukuchi_ ability – not if he wanted to waste his strength and speed for something that the boy would most likely see coming. Crouching down slightly, he angled himself to unleash a battoujutsu strike.

“Ah, the final technique of Hiten Mitsurugi?” the boy stated, the thin smile still upon his face as Hiko saw him sheathe his katana as well, mirroring his stance.

He clenched his jaw for a moment – Kenshin had not told him in great detail about his second fight against Seta Soujirou, but he did remember hearing his apprentice mention that the boy had one technique that was the equal in speed to _Amakakeru Ryuu no Hirameki_. _Shuntensatsu_ , or the combination of the boy's freakishly excellent command of _shukuchi_ and natural sword drawing speed to kill with one stroke. His own battoujutsu stance did not give way as to which form he was going to utilize, for it could range from the final technique to something as simple as _Soryuusen_. However, if the boy was going to use _Shuntensatsu_ , he would have no other choice but to unleash the final technique unless he wanted to open himself to an attack.

Both he and the boy were so vested in their fight, that it took a few moments for each to register in utter bewilderment as to what had happened when something, or rather someone flew and skidded across the space between them. The person who had been thrown their way had gouged a path in the dirt deep enough to let debris fly everywhere before slamming deep into a man-made mount of dirt that led up to a part of the fort's walls.

Hiko only had a heartbeat to react, but even in that heartbeat, he had clearly seen who that person had been. Sprinting forward as if lightning carried him from where he had been standing moments ago to where he closed the distance, it was not the Seta boy that he aimed for, but rather he had turned just slightly enough to intercept the swordsman that his apprentice had been fighting.

_Soryuusen_ flew out of his scabbard, just as he slammed his sword against the Seta boy's own before the boy could unleash the full force of _Shuntensatsu_. However, on the heels of his katana came the scabbard, and that smashed into the incoming blade of Daisuke. The metal casing around his scabbard screeched and sparked against Daisuke's blade. With his whirling momentum stopped, he pushed with all of his strength to drive them as far away from his apprentice as possible.

Kenshin was buried deep within the gouged dirt path that he had carved, but it was not the fact that his apprentice had done that, that fueled his new-found, ice-cold fury. He couldn't tell if his apprentice was alive and knocked out, or dead; for Kenshin's presence was completely gone.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The place where Hiko the 13th killed his master is the same clifftop clearing that Kenshin, Misao, Okita, and Yuki look out towards Kyoto to see part of it on fire at the end of Chapter 9 of Remnants.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

“ _Kuzuryuusen_!”

Kenshin's nine-pointed strike hit his target true, knocking back the man who looked similar to his master. As he immediately followed the path of destruction and out, he knew that that would be the only chance he would get to use the technique – Daisuke looked too much of a veteran to let him get another clear hit upon him. Even though Seta Soujirou had been unwillingly turned into an agent of the Guards, he still believed what the boy had said all those nights ago about not telling the Guards about the succession technique. He needed to bide his time and use it at an opportune time, but yet he could not wait and battle the giant of a man who was almost as tall as his master and just as strong-looking, for long.

As soon as he landed in the area where the man had plowed straight into the ground and carved a rather deep path into the ground before stopping, an explosion behind him shook the ground. He briefly turned to see that the area where they had been conducting the meeting was on fire, and that fire was quickly spreading. However, while he could also see people moving about within the inferno, he could not help them at the moment. It was because not a moment after he landed, many guardsmen wielding rifles surrounded him. He paused for a moment from his approach as they leveled their rifles at him. Some of their rifles had bayonets on the ends, some didn't, but the only thing that mattered was the fact that they had him surrounded several layers deep.

Taking a moment to tighten his grip on his sword, he could hear the fight going on between his master and Soujirou, but he could not _feel_ their presences at all. Each clash that the two engaged was destroying any outcropping, tree, or parts of the buildings unlucky enough to be close enough to the two's battle. That was what he heard, and he could sense the underlying nervousness within the guardsmen that surrounded him. It told him that either the guardsmen were afraid of the same thing happening here between him and Daisuke, or that they truly were afraid of the lightning-fast battle going on not far from them.

He couldn't anticipate when another thing near the two would be destroyed to take full advantage of the distraction it was causing, but he could use the nervousness of the guardsmen to his advantage. That moment of pause ended as he immediately launched himself sky-high into the air, causing some of the guardsmen to shout in alarm as they raised their rifles to fire at him. Deflecting a couple of the bullets with quick wrist-work upon his sakabatou, he slowed just enough at the apex of his leap. He counted an estimate of about sixty men surrounding him, with at least twelve between him and the still out-cold Daisuke. As he started to fall, he did not angle himself to crash down into several of the guardsmen.

Instead, as soon as he landed, he immediately rolled to the side, lashing out into the legs of a few of the guardsmen. They landed upon their comrades with enough force to send more than one to the ground; all knocked out cold by their own fall. They fell, and he continued to keep himself crouched, lashing right, left, right, left as fast as he could with just a flick of his wrists and a forceful application of force through the tip of his sakabatou. He was also dashing in and out between the legs of the guards as they tried to bring their empty rifles down from above to smash it into him. His initial gambit worked as he managed to successfully knock down twenty guardsmen that surrounded him, before he finally rolled back up and started to work his way through the remaining guardsmen to get to Daisuke.

They bunched together some more, and he knew that they were trying to buy time, to give Daisuke time to recover from the blow. It was almost the same concept that Aoshi had employed upon him during the battle against Shishio – the former _Okashira_ had tried to stall as long as possible. He couldn't be as generous as Aoshi had been for him – he couldn't be merciful towards Daisuke. As soon as the swordsman stood up, Kenshin would have to unleash the succession technique – he couldn't bide his time as he thought he could just a few minutes before. At the rate the guardsmen were putting up a terrific fight by sheer mass and will to stand, he would be greatly exhausted by the time he reached Daisuke.

Slicing up and through the rifle that a guardsman had held up in an attempt to shoot him, it exploded, but he was already twirling his sword around, bringing it straight back down, hitting the guardsman with the blunt side in a quick diagonal strike that collapsed the man and two others behind him. He flipped and reversed the sakabatou's momentum, angling it up and stepped in while swiping a quick left-right-left to knock a few more guardsmen away.

Continuing to push his way forward, he sliced through several more rifles, some loaded, some not before immediately rolling forward to avoid being skewered by bayonets. Just as he rolled up, he again, tripped and knocked down another two, before shifting and immediately reached towards the back of him with his left hand, sensing the rush of several guardsmen who had tried to ambush him from behind. His right hand with the sakabatou firmly in his grip, swung in a lateral arc, smashing into the side of another guardsman before he grabbed with his left hand and hauled a guardsman over his left shoulder.

The guardsman was flung over and into the remaining people that blocked his path to the deadly practitioner. The moment his path was cleared, he charged through before the remaining twenty or so guardsmen could surround him again. There was the barest hints of the presence of the man who stood almost as tall as his master, and even though his eyes were still closed and he was not moving, Kenshin saw a twitch of the man's fingers. Daisuke was waking up, and Kenshin could not wait any longer or be delayed by the remaining guardsmen – he had to strike and end the battle now.

Sheathing his sword as he flew out of the throng, he was three steps away from unleashing _Amakakeru Ryu no Hirameki_ upon the swordsman when he saw the man's left hand twitch again.

Two steps away, he saw him tighten his grip on his katana and snap his eyes open.

One step away, Kenshin saw him stand up, his red-white cloak fluttering to the ground – looking nearly the same as his master had looked last summer. The only exception was that there was absolutely none of the menacing, powerful presence that his master had pressed upon him in the forests – there was absolutely no presence from Daisuke. The man's presence was completely gone; exactly like Soujirou.

The swordsman disappeared before he could even blink.

As Kenshin's left foot stepped in and began crushing the earth he was running upon with the terrifying amount of force he was putting into his legs, he drew his sakabatou faster than he had ever done so. His body screamed at him to stop as a searing lance of pain ripped through his muscles, but his mind was made up and he followed through with the strike. The mighty gust of wind _Amakakeru Ryu no Hirameki_ created before it was abruptly stopped and blown to either side in deflection by the nine-pointed strike that Daisuke had unleashed upon him knocked guardsmen aside as if they were straw figures. It even emptied a small garden pond near the walls of its water. The force of the impact dented the stone walls, causing a spider of cracks to crawl up and down. Scores of earthen mounds were driven up against the walls. There was no doubt in his mind that the swordsman had been able to see his nine-pointed strike and instantly learn how to utilize that technique to great effect.

However, what was left after the impact of two techniques was a void – a displacement of the air. While it was supposed to draw Daisuke in closer, instead, it drew the resultant remaining force from _Kuzuryuusen_ into the void. The swordsman's blade never reached Kenshin, but the power behind it did – he could not avoid it. All nine-points hit with an agonizing jolt, sending Kenshin flying away and towards where the two other two combatants were. He hit the ground with bone jarring force, and the last thing he felt was overwhelming pain enveloping his body, sending him into darkness.

* * *

_At nearly the same time..._

 

“Run, damn you, run!”

It was not the roar from Aya to them, nor the terrifying demeanor of Okita emerging from the gunpowder-induced inferno that was rapidly burning through the building, nor the fact that he had shot several guardsmen in the legs before jumping down from the watchtower and landing in the courtyard that surprised him. It was the fact that his brother had _snatched_ a revolver from him as soon as he had landed and calmly shot a few more guardsmen in the legs before forcibly dragging _him_ away.

He was thrown up into a relatively empty area of the rooms that surrounded the nakaniwa, but the smoke was getting incredibly thick. He heard Tatsu scramble in after him before hearing him tersely demand, “I need bullets.”

Shock was still coursing through his body as he numbly dug into the pouch that contained his bullets and handed him a handful of them. However, he was driven out of that shock with the reverberation of someone landing and pounding on the floor behind them. Whirling around, he brought his other revolver to bear as he saw his brother hurriedly insert the bullets into the cylinder of his revolver. However, he stopped short of shooting whoever had followed them into the smoke-filled building.

“Go!” Aya insisted, gesturing for them to keep moving just as footsteps pounded on the floor behind her. Tetsu saw a guardsman emerge from the smoke just as she turned to face the new threat. She immediately lashed out with two swift kicks at a guardsman; one connecting at the stomach which folded the man, and the other a snap-kick right at the man's chin that sent him flying backwards and crashing into a nearby partition.

There were more vibrations on the floor by the time he glanced back to see that Tatsu had finished loading the revolver, and it was not just from the building collapsing around them. Wasting no more time, he turned back and ran towards where he knew the main entrance to the Magistrate's Office was. Once he emerged into the bright and bitterly cold autumn air, free of smoke and intense heat from the fire, he glanced back to see Aya emerge as well, but it was the rapid _pow-pow-pow_ of Tatu's revolver that drew his attention from her.

The three of them were running headlong into a throng of guardsmen who were trying to get away from the utter destruction that was being rendered upon several smaller buildings and mounds of hard-packed earth to the left of their escape route. Whomever were fighting near the southwestern entrance were too fast for him to follow with his eyes. All he could see that were the result of their clashes were that things that should not have exploded without gunpowder, exploding.

Firing in rapid succession, he managed to strike the legs of four of the foremost guardsmen who were surging towards them, while Tatsu collapsed another three before his revolver emptied. The seven guardsmen tumbled to the ground, their rifles clattering with them – not dead, but with leg injuries that would prevent them from getting back up and running towards them. Their topple into the ground also caused those behind them who were not exactly paying attention to the front, to fall.

“This way!” he heard Aya call out and just as he shoved another six bullets into his brother's outstretched hand, he followed her – they were headed towards the north entrance, since it was all but impossible to go out through the south-west entrance.

Reloading his own revolver, he only had six bullets left and between both of them, they had to make all twelve remaining ones count. “Nothing left in my pouch, Tatsu-nii,” he said, just as a swarm of rifle-armed guardsmen from the north and north east area of the fort came running towards them. The guardsmen abruptly halted before reaching them and set up a very familiar-looking firing line; first row kneeling and second row standing.

The three of the dove towards the shelter of several small buildings as a staccato cascade of rifle fire from the line pelted the area where they had been moments ago. An answering report sent splinters of wood, stone, and dirt flying up towards them as the building in front of them them was also hit with the fleeing guardsmen who had somewhat recovered. Tetsu knew then that these people, these Chrysanthemum Guards were no ordinary thugs – these were highly trained people and they drew from tactics that even the Imperial Army employed.

The loud report of a rifle directly above Tetsu's head caused him to look up – only to see that Aya had snatched up a rifle that had been sitting in a barrel. His initial thought as to the make of the rifles upon seeing them just a few minutes ago was correct. The rifles looked like _Mauser_ rifles, but he was not familiar with the model that she was holding and had discharged at the guardsmen that had come in from the north.

He heard Aya softly swear as she snatched up another loaded rifle from the barrel and fired another shot into the mass, downing another guardsman. However, before either he or his brother could attempt to clear a path to the north entrance with their revolvers, several shadows appeared from above them. Guardsmen wielding different types of _Mausers_ plunged into the area where they had taken temporary shelter. As Tetsu jumped back, he fired his revolver nearly point-blank into some of the guardsmen. Ducking and rolling to avoid their rifles and bayonets, they collapsed to the ground with agonizing cries, clutching their legs.

Swiping up one of the dropped rifles after hastily holstering his revolver, he silenced a few with a _thwack_ from swinging the barrel into their heads. Pushing with all of his strength against another guardsman, rifle against rifle, he could see the southern forces rapidly approaching. A quick glance behind him as he held the current guardsman at bay told him that the northern forces were also converging upon them. Since they could not escape via the north or south-western bridges, the nearest underground tunnel that he knew of was two storehouses to the north of where they were. However, he did not know if that tunnel was still viable since it was the most oft-flooded ones during the late autumn and winter months.

Blinding pain suddenly exploded on his right temple as he toppled over, landing quite painfully on the ground. Ever since he had lost sight within his right eye during the summer, he still did not have a good sense of things that happened on that side. However, years upon years of instinct, honed by his own stubbornness, along with his time in the Shinsengumi, and from all the battles that he had fought while serving with Saigo Takamori prevented him from being skewered as he immediately rolled and brought his rifle up.

Viciously batting away tips of enemy rifles, he did his best to ignore the pounding headache that reverberated through his skull, the trickle of blood seeping down the side of his head, and the stars that appeared across his left eye. Lashing out with a few kicks, he managed to make a few of the enemy stumbled before their attentions were diverted as he heard and partially saw Tatsu give a mighty yell and swing a rifle around and around. It worked to temporarily drive back the guardsmen and Tetsu scrambled up just in time to see Aya slice her wakizashi across two throats of guardsmen before unleashing three glinting throwing knives into a cluster of them.

However, just as he got up, he saw beyond the south-western approach of the guardsmen who surrounded them, something or rather someone momentarily streak through the air in a blur of red-brown before plowing straight into the ground, creating a long trench. “Kenshin!” he shouted, as he saw his cousin's master, a terrifyingly tall and muscular man who looked similar but older than the opponent that Kenshin had been fighting, shift to intercept the attack of two enemy Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu practitioners. The _ken-ki_ that was swirling and clashing in that area, seeping like a tide of ebb and flow to where he and the others were, was quite powerful. But of their presences, Tetsu could not even _feel_ them. That was quite possibly more frightening than anything he could think of.

His view from the desperate fight that Kenshin's master was now engaged in against the two blisteringly fast swordsmen, to protect Kenshin who had not emerged from the hole his trench-path had carved into a mound of earth, was briefly swallowed up by a surge from the mass of guardsmen continuing to surround them. That moment passed, however, as startled yells and panic began to spread from the outer ring of guardsmen. Tetsu only had a moment to comprehend what had happened before he saw a spray of blood shoot up into the air to the left of him that was accompanied by a small explosion of gunpowder from the sliced rifle as both the Mauser the guardsman had been holding and the man's left arm flew up and away.

“Okita-san!” he cried, desperation and relief flooding him as he saw his friend charge into the area where he and the others had been pinned down. The pressure of his rifle pinned against a guardsman was briefly alleviated as the guardsman took a step back to dodge Okita's initial sword thrust. Tetsu took that opportunity to swing his rifle into another guardsman who was trying to break through Tatsu's barrier.

It was then, as he turned, that he also saw Saitou within the small area that they had carved out to defend. His head was still pounding from the blow that he had received. Stinging pain from the rivulets of sweat pouring down his face and body, mixing in with the soot from gunpowder and dirt that crawled into the small cuts that he had received, shot throughout his body, but he supposed that he, Tatsu, and Aya fared much better than Okita or Saitou. As much as he still disliked Saitou, both him and Okita had burnt patches of clothing and singed skin showing through them – they looked quite injured. Their hair and clothes were also covered in layers of soot and grime, with their faces almost blackened by the inferno they must have fought within.

In the moment of reprieve those within the defending circle received with the arrival of help from two more swordsmen, the guardsmen had taken a couple of steps back. Standing back-to-back with his brother, friends, and comrades, Tetsu could see those behind the first ring trying to bring their rifles to bear without slipping on the blood-soaked and muddy ground. They were attempting to use the first ring of guardsmen as shields of sorts. He warily eyed the guardsmen--

“Saitou, she's running towards the north entrance,” Aya suddenly hissed, drawing his attention from the guardsmen for a moment as he looked over and beyond the heads of the thick throng that surrounded them. “If she opens those doors, all of the guards surrounding the perimeter will pour in through there.”

There was indeed, a flash of a woman wearing a grey kimono far and away from among the sea of attackers. Seta Yuna was clearly trying to escape from the fort while leaving her comrades to deal with them. “What trap do you have set there?” Saitou demanded.

“No trap, but there is a gunpowder storage area right before the bridge across the moat.”

Tetsu's mouth hung open for a second as he realized what Aya's statement implied, but before he or his brother could protest, Saitou curtly ordered, “Shoot her as soon as she opens the gate, and don't wait for the second shot.”

No other words were exchanged between the two, and Tetsu only saw Saitou give a nod towards Okita before they and Aya all attacked the guardsmen with frenzied fury that he had not seen since before the end of the revolution. The deadly elegance and swiftness in which both Aya and Okita cut down guardsmen after guardsmen, was something to behold. The semi-circle in which the guardsmen had surrounded them widened considerably in the next few seconds before he saw Saitou unleash a tremendous point-blank attack. Tetsu knew that it was _Gatotsu_ , but he had never seen such overwhelming power behind it before.

For one moment, the path towards the northern gate was cleared, but in the moment that Saitou sprinted clear of the throng and towards the leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards, more guardsmen filled the blood and body-covered path. Tetsu kept the despair at bay – he knew that neither he nor Tatsu would have been fast enough to follow. It would have not been to follow Saitou, but to get to the hopefully not-flooded tunnel.

Without a second swordsman to hold the tide back, the buffer that had been initially created was rapidly collapsing. Tetsu saw Aya snatch up a blood-covered rifle dropped by a dead guardsman as the rapid firing of Tatsu and his revolver temporarily drove the collapsing part back. Tetsu pushed and fired a rifle into the legs of a guardsman that had been advancing on Okita, before running a few steps forward to take up a mud-covered one. Discharging that one as well, he then swung the butt of it towards his right to keep more guardsman at bay – they could not lose the cushion of maneuvering room they had or the line of sight.

The report of a single shot, louder than he had anticipated, even though he had fired his own rifles, caused him to flinch. He had seen the shot plunge into Seta Yuna's shoulder, jerking her for a moment before she collapsed to the ground. A sudden memory bloomed across his mind – that of how he was shot at Shiroyama by an Imperial Army marksman. He remembered having the same kind of reaction that the woman had had when shot in the shoulder... except he had then fallen off of his horse with the resultant shock.

“Wait!” he heard Tatsu shout, breaking off from firing the remaining bullets within his revolver, and lunged towards Aya who had not moved from where she was situated and had merely reached over to snatch another rifle up. “Saitou is not clear yet!”

As much as he hated what the Third Unit Captain had done at Shiroyama to sober him up from his own personal demons within the fog, even he was scrambling towards Aya to stop her from what she was about to do. Tatsu was right – Saitou had only reached the downed leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards and had begun to drag her back. Okita was still keeping the line of sight open between Aya's second rifle and where the open gates now stood. However, in the far distance beyond the gates, he could see moving shadows being cast on the ground and approaching.

He didn't even get time to blink as he saw out of the corner of his eyes, someone fell from the sky, covered in dark soot and with a horrendous scream of rage and a garbled, “ _Ryuutsuisen_!” leading the way. A dirtied, fire-burnt swordswoman wearing the remains of a formerly pristine red-white mantle smashed straight into Okita, driving him back a few steps. The line of sight began to collapse.

Just as Tetsu thought that Aya would not coldly shoot and kill one of their own in such an explosive manner, she fired.

* * *

_Tokyo_

 

“How much of this should I pour into here, Megumi?”

Tokio slid the door to courtyard entrance into Dr. Gensai's house and clinic close as she heard Kaoru's voice coming from somewhere close. As she emerged from the small privacy fence that led into the actual courtyard, she announced herself, saying, “Pardon me, but it is I, Tokio, and I have the supplies that you've requested, Takani-sensei and Gensai-sensei.”

“Ah, Fujita-san,” Dr. Gensai greeted with a smile, looking up from where he had paused in the middle of his walk towards the back of the clinic. There was a book in the doctor's hands and it looked as if he had been consulting it for a moment.

Dr. Takani and Reika were still in the midst of mixing several bowls of herbs, while Kaoru and Dr. Gensai's granddaughters, Ayame and Suzume were separating different types of mixed herbs into smaller medicinal packets. She looked beyond the courtyard and into a small room that had a small part of the partition opened. Tokio's young son, Tsutomu, was still blissfully sleeping on the futon in the room, and she couldn't help but smile. Buddha had blessed her with such a quiet and not fussy son, that even with her acquaintance made with the doctors and her friendship with the others, they did not have to spare too much attention to keep an eye on him while she was gone to buy the necessary supplies.

“Those packets should be twice of what was done earlier in the morning. That will be the dosage that the policemen will carry on them for emergency purposes,” Dr. Takani answered before turning her attention to Tokio. “Thank you, Fujita-san, for fetching the paper supplies. If it is not too much of a bother, would you please cut the paper down to size?”

“It is not a bother, Takani-sensei,” she said, placing the long sheets down on the walkway before removing her geta and stepping up to go to the kitchen where she remembered seeing shears there.

Since her husband's departure, and eventually along with Himura, Okita, and then unexpectedly, Ichimura and Yamazaki's leaving as well, it had been relatively quiet in the city. Relative was a word that she knew that most in the company she kept at the moment would not use, for there had been quite a number of 'incidents'. She only used such a word for compared to what she had experienced during the revolution, the police were quite vigilant in their duties and had managed to successfully subdue all perpetrators of the 'incidents'. However, the numbers were steadily rising and the perpetrators ranged from the beggar poor to surprisingly affluent, well-connected businessmen and women.

The government had put out a notice shortly after the wife of a well-known supplier of various types of tea had become as insensible as the others afflicted. They were calling it an illness and had started to distribute the mixture that Dr. Gensai, Dr. Takani, and Dr. Yamazaki had initially developed.

It was not a cure. However, to their surprise, the government had publicly declared it as well as they sent runners to towns, villages, and other cities with ingredients needed to create the medicine. They had said that the medicine was only to help ease the symptoms and that those who found their families and friends hit with the affliction should give the medicine to the person to calm him or her down before calling for a doctor. Many doctors had backed the government on their declaration, citing that the symptoms varied between ages and genders and thus a cure would have to be carefully made to suit the afflicted person.

However, Tokio only saw it as a testament as to how stretched the government was becoming and how frayed everything was in this era of peace. She didn't even know if many of the smaller towns and villages had doctors that could get them the medicinal mix in time. They didn't even know how exactly the opium was being distributed, for none of Shinomori's old contacts in the underground were dealing with such a potent thing. Takeda Kanryuusai's very public arrest, prosecution, and execution had all but scared them from making too many overt moves.

Her greatest fear was not only would another rash of abductions happen again, but if something worse than people committing suicide in the streets would happen in the near future. Her husband was right – after the summer's incident, the government could not cope with another crisis of this magnitude, at least not in the immediate future. That worried her the most.

While other clinics were packaging nearly the same type of herbal mixture to give to the populace, it seemed that the opiate affliction was indeed as varied as the people it affected. The double-dosage that Kaoru and the two children were packaging was a testament to that and as Tokio returned to the front of the clinic and courtyard with the shears in hand, she saw Dr. Gensai at the grinding wheel again. Though the doctor occasionally glanced at the book he had laid out next to where he was working, the herb that the doctor was currently mashing into a fine powder looked quite different than the ones that she had seen him grind down.

She decided not to disturb him and went about with her own tasks at hand, but not before checking upon her son for a brief moment. A pang of loneliness struck her heart for a moment as she saw the calm and peaceful face of her son sleeping in the room. Tsutomu looked just like his father. She and the others had not heard from their friends and families for quite a while now, and despite herself, she hoped that they were all right. There still had been no information from the officers whom Himura and Okita had been helping with the search for the children.

Her worried thoughts were interrupted with a familiar presence by the entrance to the clinic and moments later, the sounds of the wooden door to the entrance sliding open were heard. “Shinomori-san,” she greeted politely as the others glanced up from their work to see the former Oniwabanshuu _Okashira_ enter, eyes sweeping the courtyard in slight concern.

“Fujita-san,” the shinobi answered in kind. It was only because Dr. Gensai and his granddaughters did not know that she was the wife of one of the surviving Shinsengumi, that everyone present addressed her with her husband's aliased name. “I have news from Sendai.”

“Kenshin?” Kaoru immediately asked, eyes looking quite hopeful. “Has he and Oki-- um, Shirou-sensei found the children? What about Ichimura-san and Yamazaki-sensei?”

“A portion of the missing children have been found and safely recovered,” Shinomori answered, pulling out a curled piece of paper from within his trench coat's left pocket. “Himura and the others are traveling up to Aomori, but they have sent the children down to Tokyo by ship. Ichimura Hanako has also been found and is traveling with the children. They are currently being protected by Yukishirou Enishi, but once he docks and offloads the children, he will be sailing to America. Lieutenant Fujita has requested Takahashi to guard Ichimura Hanako once she arrives at Yokohama harbor in two days.”

“Yukishirou Enishi?” Kaoru echoed more in surprise than in shock.

Hajime had told her in so many words what had happened last year when she had heard him mention the name of 'Yukishirou' this past summer. He had mainly done it to compare Kitamura's revenge plot to that of Enishi's plot against Himura near the end of the summer last year. In turn, she had told him of her friendship with the Yukishirou family, in particular to Yukishirou Tomoe, whom she had heard died during the revolution in Kyoto. It was then that she had discovered from her husband that Himura had been briefly married to Tomoe and that Enishi was Himura's brother-in-law.

“I will guard her, but what are you not telling me about Ichimura-san, Aoshi?” Reika spoke up. “What is different about this than from the last time I guarded her and her husband?”

“Ichimura Hanako is her alias,” Shinomori answered but said nothing else.

“If you would pardon my intrusion,” Tokio spoke up, placing the shears down on the stack of papers that she had cut up thus far, “Perhaps I may be able to convince Yukishirou-san to remain until my husband and the others return.”

The puzzled look that flashed across Kaoru, Dr. Takani, and Shinomori's faces was expected, but surprisingly, it was Shinomori who realized the implications of her statement. She expected no less from the former _Okashira_ who had led Edo's Oniwabanshuu faction during the siege of the city all those years ago. “Perhaps. The missive did not mention it, but I suspect that Yukishirou's father is also traveling with him. Himura mentioned something about a particular old man at the Village of the Fallen who had tried to impart some wisdom to him during his time there.”

“Then I shall endeavor not to fail in my duty to convince him and his father to remain for the time being,” she said nodding. Though Enishi may not remember her, she knew that Enishi's father would definitely remember her – after all, the ties that her family, even as a vassal to another, was quite strong with the Yukishirou. Her own father and the head of the Yukishirou family had tried to arrange a marriage of sorts between her and Enishi before Enishi had disappeared.

“Then please, there is something both you and Takahashi must know,” Shinomori said, gesturing for them to go outside to continue the conversation where the doctors would not be privy to. Tokio suspected that it had to do with the fact that Ichimura Hanako was aliased for her protection and now that protection was gone.

“Ano... perhaps I may be able to help as well?” Kaoru spoke up in a tentative tone. “I know Enishi--”

“Absolutely under no circumstances are you going to Yokohama!” Dr. Takani cut in before the young woman could finish her statement. “Don't you remember what he did to you?!”

“Yes,” Kaoru answered, before giving Shinomori an imploring look. “You said so yourself from the police reports last year that Enishi was completely defanged, and that it was a waste of police resources to search for him. That means he's not a threat to anyone anymore.”

“Kaoru,” she spoke up, intervening before any further arguments or protests could be said by those gathered, “I understand your concern and share it. You may share commonality with Yukishirou-san, but I believe that the best course of action right now is to ensure the safety of Ichimura Hanako. Takahashi-san here has agreed to guard her. That may be good enough. I will merely try to convince Yukishirou-san and his father to stay a little longer. But given the circumstances of his status as the foreigners say, _persona non grata_ , or a person that is wanted by the government, this personal request that I make may not even work.”

“Personal request?”

She folded her hands together, saying, “I knew of the family long ago, though the friendly ties were more between my father and Yukishirou-san's father. That era no longer exists and thus whatever had bound us may also no longer exist.”

“Oh,” Kaoru said, looking a little less certain than before. Tokio knew that her explanation was quite vague, but in this instance, she did not feel like sharing her life history. It was in the past where it should stay in the past, and the fact that the past had caught up to all of them in two successively devastating years made her uneasy. She, like most people, wanted the past to stay in the past – she wanted peace and to live as quiet of a life that her husband's duties would afford them to.

“Please do not fret, Kaoru. I shall mention by the way of your husband's family connection to Ichimura that may help bolster the request for him to stay,” she said, giving her a reassuring smile. “The police are busy enough that they may not spare him another glance for now. With that, along with our reasons for request, and what my husband has told me of Yukishirou's experience with the black market, he may be able to greatly help us in solving this mystery.”

* * *

_Hakodate_

 

Okita was not the only one to stumble as the enormous gunpowder explosion, larger than the one detonated beneath or near the ichinoma of the Magistrate's Office, rocked the entire fort. It felt just like a violent earthquake. He stabbed the ground with his sword in an effort to get his footing as guardsmen all around him and the others fell. Even his niece who had surprisingly survived the inferno within the Magistrate's Office and ambushed him from above had fallen to the ground. Those Hiten Mitsurugi swordsmen fighting near them had also stumbled. Himura, still buried within the mound he had crashed into had not even awoken or moved.

Looking over the heads of those fallen, and found that at least a fifth of the fort, was completely gone, and even the earthen walls that had held up the stone walls were completely flattened. There were no trees, bushes, or even signs of things that had been there at the northern gate. A ring of fire was burning with intensity around the epicenter of the blast, and many buildings near it were starting to catch on fire as the cold wind blew fire-laced debris around.

Of Saitou and Seta Yuna, there was absolutely no sign of either of them, though he doubted that his comrade was dead. Okita knew him well enough to know that he always had a plan, even if public words stated to others sounded quite arrogantly mad. With Aya and Saitou, of how those two operated during their days in the Shinsengumi, it was always about perception and deception – even in this era of relative peace. He knew that Kondou and Hijikata trusted no one else except for those two to carry out the most important and secretive duties – as proven with their assassination of the 5th Unit Captain and eventually the assassination of Itou Kashitarou.

Saitou was alive – he was sure of it. Though as to how injured his comrade was from the explosion... that was something else.

However, his thoughts about what had happened were immediately silenced and shoved to the back of his mind as he heard the frenzied yell of Midori just before he saw her lunge up from where she had been laying on the ground. Snatching his blade out from the ground, he snapped it up and braced the blunt back of it with his left hand as his right hand angled the blade from hilt on high right down to low tip left. His niece's blade clanged against his own, though the force of her strike was weaker than what she had attacked him with back when they had been fighting within the nakaniwa.

Even though the strike was weak, he was quite exhausted from their first fight, fighting against one of the twin practitioners, and killing so many guardsmen. His strength was ebbing fast. All he could do was continue to push on, to keep not only his niece from killing him or the others, but to keep Aya, Tetsu, and Tatsunosuke alive. They were more important than him in this new age, and while he still had breath within him, he vowed to keep fighting.

Wheezing as he drew a breath that burned in his chest, he pushed back, determined to break the stalemate that he and his niece were locked in. Hakodate may have been the final grave of the Shinsengumi and their fight against the Imperialists, it may have been where Hijikata made his last stand, but as long as he still lived, the Wolves of Mibu would always carry out justice. A roar of cold fury escaped his lips as that single thought, of the sacrifices that his fellow Shinsengumi – especially of Hijikata – had made to make this era possible, filled him with the strength to continue fighting.

Throwing off Midori, he charged in as she stumbled back, trying to catch herself. Swiping down to the right, he cut down a guardsman before that guardsman could even fully get up, before whirling to the left to cut another down. Stabbing his blade forwards towards Midori, sparks between their cross blades flew as he closed the distance and then lashed out with a kick to try to break her knee caps. She dodged at the last second, but he threw himself into a counter spin to prevent her from unleashing any other techniques of Hiten Mitsurugi.

Briefly letting go of his sword with his left hand, he slammed an elbow into the face of a guardsman who tried to stab him on the left side with his bayonet, while pivoting out of the way. The man smashed into the unbalanced Midori. Just as he was about to take the few steps back in to clearly stab her in the shoulder, something dark and a blur of blue slammed into several guardsmen, knocking most of them out before streaking past his eyes.

Midori and the guardsmen to the right of her who were trying to get up were knocked back into the ground, knocked out cold as the streak of blue suddenly halted at the edge of the circle formed by the guardsmen. The swordsman had dug his sword into the ground to halt his momentum, carving into the numerous bodies that had been laying on the ground, killing some and spilling more blood into the muddy blood-soaked ground.

Okita narrowed his eyes as he immediately shifted to face this new threat. Of a presence, he could feel absolutely nothing from Seta Soujirou, who briefly lifted himself up to a kneeling position before standing back up, lifting his blade out of a body that his sword had carved into. The young man flicked his blade clean of the grime and sheathed it, before glancing up, expression devoid of any emotion. Even the seemingly cheerful smile that Seta wore was just for show. Okita did the only thing he could do.

“Get behind me,” he hoarsely ordered to the three, “and stay behind me.”

While it was the most opportune of time for Aya to get Tetsu and Tatsunosuke out of the fort, it was not, for without being able to read what Seta was going to do would be deadly for all of them. He could only assume that Himura's master had struck and sent the young man towards this area in an attempt to knock the young man out had not worked. He had dared not look back towards where Himura's master had been fighting as soon as Seta had appeared – to do so would kill him.

He could hear the three scramble, with Aya shushing the brothers' fearful questions, but he continued to keep an eye on Seta. The young man still held himself in a loose manner, but Okita was not fooled by the passiveness that he displayed. Saitou had told him how Himura had been defeated the first time he had fought Seta, having witnessed it. He knew that he did not have the battoujutsu speed that Himura had, but the boy had been defeated once before. In this unreadable state, it was supposed to instill fear, but Okita had been through too much to be fearful of such a thing. He was a child of a demon, a Miburo who refused to die, and Seta... well, the young man was only a child of a human.

Baring his teeth in an unkind smile, he set his sword in front of him and gathered his strength to unleash _Sandanzuki_. Just as Seta disappeared from where he had been staring, no doubt plunging straight into _shukuchi_ , an tremendously powerful _ken-ki_ blew past all of them. The last time he had felt something like this was Kyoto during the summer, and this one felt a lot stronger than Kyoto. Accompanying the invigorating _ken-ki_ was a rallying yell.

Himura had finally woken up.

Okita's teeth-bared smile turned into a confident smirk as he felt the fatigue leave his body, seemingly purged for a few moments or minutes – he didn't know. However, it was enough to give him the necessary strength to defeat his opponent. This was what he should have felt like when he first encountered the Hitokiri Battousai in the alleyways all those years ago. If he had been at full strength and not debilitated by his disease, he knew that he would have defeated the assassin. This moment in time, where he was granted a brief reprieve from his mortality, was enough.

The answer was now 'yes'. It was his _Sandanzuki_ versus the young man's _Shuntensatsu_. Okita knew that even though the young man just displayed the full _shukuchi_ ability, it would not be enough. Seta Soujirou was just too slow.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about Okita being quite arrogant in this last scene. It was deliberately written that way based upon analysis. We saw him fight against Kenshin in the OAV and briefly during the flashback in the beginning of the Kyoto arc, and back then, it was clearly shown by the animators that he was already suffering from the debilitating effects of tuberculosis. With the fact that he managed to fight to a draw against Kenshin in such a state only proves that had Okita been fighting at full strength with no debilitating effects, he would have effectively defeated and possibly killed Kenshin. The conclusion of this analysis was mentioned by Kenshin during his briefing to Katsura during one of the flashbacks in Remnants.
> 
> In addition to the above for this last scene, I also decided to stretch the realm of fiction (rule of cool). It was based upon the fact that Kenshin's ken-ki invigorated those who fought against Shishio – therefore his revival at the end of this chapter had even the ability to briefly suppress Okita's illness' effects. I am definitely looking forward to writing the Okita Souji vs. Seta Soujirou battle.
> 
> P.S. - Saitou is not dead. Otherwise, I would have put the warning of "Major Character Death".


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

_Year: Past, Early Spring 1866_

_Kyoto_

 

_Immediately after the Hitokiri Battousai storyline from Echoes..._

 

Hijikata carefully kept his expression as neutral as possible, though he knew that if a certain person was not in the room with the rest of them, he would have carried the worry he felt quite openly. It was only because Itou was sitting uncomfortably close to him that he kept all hints of any emotion, both positive and negative from being shown. He was _not_ going to give that man any ammunition to hold against or over him.

Kondou, however, had no issues in expression his concern with a clear frown gracing his face as a reaction to the cough that Okita had just expelled. It seemed that Itou had no issues with Kondou, but for the life of himself, Hijikata could not figure out why Itou had decided that he had a bone to pick with him in particular. Mentally shaking his head to rid as much of his irritation at Itou as possible, he returned his attention to the two sitting before them.

Though it had not only been him and Kondou who had insisted that Okita return to his room to continue to recover from last night's ordeal, the young man had refused and stubbornly remained in the room. Hijikata knew from experience that the only way to ensure that Okita remained in his room to continue recovering was to finish the task at hand – that is to hear what both captains who had personally engaged in a fight against the Hitokiri Battousai, had for their assessment of the dangerous assassin.

“He's faster than I initially expected,” Saitou spoke up in the silence that followed Okita's cough.

“Stronger too,” the younger man said, though Hijikata could clearly hear the hoarseness in Okita's voice. “That style of his, seems to be suited more for crowd control though. It is very finessed and fine-tuned to kill as efficiently as possible without wasting unnecessary strength. A complete contrast to the way the other Choshuu assassin, Shishio Makoto, kills.”

Hijikata could not help but frown slightly at that assessment. It was not the young man's words that gave him pause, but rather the description behind those words. During the months in which Okita had killed on the orders of Serizawa, he had seen the aftermath of those assassinations. One of those assassinations had been in conjunction with another assassination that had taken place a few blocks away. Both kills had been quite finessed to the point where even he had to consider it a macabre elegance.

Now, considering the description given, he suspected that perhaps by chance, the Hitokiri Battousai had assassinated his target at nearly the same time that Okita had done so during that particular night. If it was true, then it was most definitely a pure miracle that neither Okita nor the Choshuu assassin had met during their respective carry out of their assigned orders.

“Agreed,” Saitou said, nodding slightly. “If all ten of us even try to engage him at the same time, it would have to be simultaneously, not one after the other. Whittling him down in strength will do us no favors.”

“So the key to his style is strength, not speed,” Kondou spoke up, rubbing his chin with his right hand, looking more serious than he had ever seen him be in a while. “At least not any faster than we can be.” Their commander paused for a moment before saying, “Given the destruction that our spies have reported back from Otsu on what looked to be an attempt to openly assassinate the assassin, efforts to reduce his senses haven't worked either. The streets of the city are too narrow for all ten captains to engage in a fight, and the logistics of putting that into motion is all but impossible.”

“Kondou- _kyoukuchou_ , if I may?” Itou spoke up, his voice ever so cloyingly persuasive and deferential – enough that it made Hijikata's teeth hurt just thinking or hearing it.

“Please, Itou-san, please,” Kondou said gesturing slightly with his hands.

“Perhaps the best course of action at the moment is to not engage this Hitokiri Battousai, but rather allow him to escape with a rebel or two. He or the escaped rebels will then have to report back to their leaders, thereby allowing us to find their hideouts and launch a full attack upon them,” the man stated. “If we happen to find the Battousai within one of these hideouts, then not only would we not place the citizens of Kyoto in harms way, but we will be able to kill him and the rebels within without any other collateral damages.”

“Wonderful idea!” Kondou said, and Hijikata had to admit to himself that it was indeed, a well thought-out and plausible plan of action. Except...

“The assassin that we hunt is far more intelligent than some of his rebel friends,” he spoke up, breaking into Kondou's flowing praise of Itou's plan. Ignoring how their commander's face fell at such a declaration, and definitely ignoring the too inquisitive look that Itou gave him, he continued to say, “The best course of action at the moment is to keep him from _returning_ to Kyoto to reinforce the rebels...”

* * *

_Later..._

 

“It was encoded?”

Saitou silently nodded his assent as the vice-commander took another puff of the pipe he was currently smoking. “I've never seen anything like it before..”

“When did he write such a message?”

“Judging by the paper quality and how faded the ink was when I found it, I would say that it was immediately after our meeting with Kondou, you, and him regarding the encounter that we had against the Battousai,” he stated. “I think he might have been writing about the plan that we've formulated to keep the Battousai from reinforcing the rebels within Kyoto.”

“I don't even want to know how you managed to come by such a message,” Hijikata said, frowning deeply before dismissing whatever thoughts that lingered in his mind about that particular subject. “But then why did he not send it off right away? Why keep the letter with him? You said so yourself that the rebels are aware that we know some details of the Battousai's sword style, yet...”

“Do you suspect that Itou has loyalties to other rebel organizations other than those within Kyoto?”

“All the main players on either side are here or near Kyoto, including the Shogun himself. Where else would such a man send a heavily encrypted message?” Hijikata speculated, but then took one last puff on his pipe before placing it down. “Continue monitoring him. Our main concern is that the rebels do not find out about the Osaka shipments.”

“As you wish.”

* * *

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

_Hakodate_

 

From Toba-Fushimi until his capture during the Battle of Aizu, and even during the campaign against Saigo Takamori that ended at Shiroyama, Saitou had survived through many harrowing times. He was quite determined not to die in a place like this. Hakodate was the final resting place of many of the Shinsengumi, but by all accounts, it was stated that they had put up a fearsome fight against the Imperialists. He drew upon the spirit that they left behind – they fought for their freedom and against the evil they perceived, and now, in this new age, he fought for the same.

Gasping for air, he pushed his hands up and away, feeling the heavy, crumbling earth slide off and away with slabs and chunks of dirt, rocks, and stone following it. It was dark, and as he blinked and continued to swim out of the muck and debris that covered him and the unconscious woman, he could start to hear the smell the fire and smoke.

Emerging out of the dry moat that lined the inner part of this portion of the fort near the north gate, he ignored the pain that wracked his body from the force of the blast, along with the many cuts, scrapes, and small shrapnel that had peppered him. He had dragged the leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards into the moat as soon as she had been shot, and not a moment after that, the second shot from Matsumoto's rifle had detonated the gunpowder, flattening the entire area and most likely killing many guardsmen who had been trying to enter.

Getting his footing over the fiery debris and burnt earth, he turned and roughly pulled the unconscious woman out before snatching up the katana that had been left in the 'hole'. Though it would have been easier to just kill the leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards, the woman he dragged was of great importance and could not be killed just yet. There was also the consideration that just killing her right here and now would not stop the Guards.

Unlike Shishio's organization and some of the Juppongatana who were loyal to him, the pervasiveness of the rhetoric (and mental manipulations) and how embedded the Guards were within society would not die when their leader died. The entire structure, should the government deem to dismantle it, would take years of ferreting. It would be easier for the government to appropriate such a resource and take advantage of it to strengthen the country in the wake of what had happened over the summer. At least that was how he saw and though that Yamagata would see some use for the Guards. There was also the matter of whether or not Seta Yuna's claims that they served the Emperor and not the 'corrupt' Genrou was true. He wouldn't be able to get any answers to that claim from her unless she was kept alive.

Dragging her by the collar of her kimono, he quickly surveyed the scene around him. The ground was completely scorched black, and flames were greedily licking the sides of buildings and trees that had survived the explosion. Of the outside of the fort, he could see a ring of guardsmen laying flat on the ground, and none of them looked to be stirring. The explosion had brought him and his comrades time.

Of the fighting that had been going on; even with the heat of the flames mixing in with the bitterly cold wind, an invigorating, familiar presence gusted past him. The accompanying _ki-ai_ that thundered through the area, dampening even the crackling sounds of the inferno that was burning through the fort, was provocative. He gave a wolfish smirk as he continued to drag his unconscious prey and walk through the blackened grounds, headed straight towards the ring of fire that surrounded him.

Himura Battousai was finally awake again, and in the maelstrom of that powerful _ken-ki_ that the swordsman unleashed, he had clearly felt two distinct _ken-ki_ mix in with it. One belonged to the Battousai's master – a terrifying presence that would cow mortal men. The other belonged to Okita – changed from the familiar presence that he knew of; this time clearer and sharper like a fine thin edge of a freshly forged blade.

His comrade's presence suddenly disappeared, but through the wavering mirage cast by the flames, he saw the cause for the disappearance. A blue-clothed blur suddenly appeared in front of his comrade – Okita was fighting against Seta Soujirou. However, unlike the first and last time he, Saitou, had had to intervene in the middle of his comrade's fight all those years ago in Kyoto, he didn't have to this time.

His smirk widened, as he continued at a languid pace. It was quite obvious, even from the distance he was observing the fight, as to who would win.

~~~

Tetsu felt his eyes widen with absolute surprise and fear as he saw though his good eye, the patchy blue-clothed young man disappear from where he had been crouched, ready to draw his sword much like how Kenshin drew his. The ground where the swordsman had been standing was caved in with the force of his acceleration from a dead stop. Tetsu didn't even get time to blink before the young swordsman suddenly appeared out of thin air right in front of Okita, crushing the ground beneath both of them. The swordsman's blade was already in the midst of arcing out of the scabbard and towards Okita. The instant before the tip of the blade cleared the swordsman's scabbard, Okita too, disappeared, only to reappear _behind_ the swordsman.

His jaw dropped open as he saw Okita's blade crash violently against the swordsman's own, sending a spray of blood-soaked earth and debris up from the force of the impact – with the swordsman having immediately whirled around to face the threat. He had never seen Okita move that fast. Where on earth had Okita gotten this much strength or speed?

His answer was not forthcoming as the flying dirty debris reached him and the others a moment later, briefly choking him as he snapped his mouth shut. All he could do at the moment was to briefly raise his arm up as a shield.

Even as he lowered it, several more patches of crushed and sinking holes of earth had appeared, and every so often, both the blue-clothed swordsman and Okita reappeared in his view. It was not a wonder that Okita had told them to get behind him and stay behind him – or rather, stay away. Neither he nor Tatsu could move from where they stood, lest they get in the way of the fight. He glanced over towards Aya and nearly took a step back in fright. The former spymaster had a clear frown of anger upon her lips, but there was a very concerned look upon her face.

It was then he realized that whatever had happened to grant Okita such a boost in strength and speed to match the enemy swordsman was only temporary. With each step, hit, or block against the incredibly fast enemy swordsman, was putting a clear amount of stress upon his friend's body. Somehow, his friend was not feeling any pain or detrimental effects from what he was doing. With dread crawling into his stomach, Tetsu realized that once whatever was suppressing the illness that plagued Okita ended, all of the after-effects would be felt... and that it could possibly kill him.

“Oki--” Tetsu never got to yell his warning in full as a red blur streaked into the middle of the fight.

There was a moment where he saw everything clearly. In that instant when Kenshin intervened, it was not in the blurred stop of an attack that he remembered seeing as they had done to Okita's nephew in Sendai, but rather something entirely different. There was a coldly demonic look in Okita's eyes, but there was also clarity in those eyes. Though the former First Unit Captain had not reversed his blade, Tetsu had seen him strike with a move that was not quite familiar to him but seemed like a variation on _Hirasegan_ , right into the shoulder of the enemy swordsman. The swordsman had barely blocked the strike, but the force behind it was enough to spin him slightly and straight into Kenshin, who had stepped in and drawn his blade.

Tetsu thought that swordsmen usually stepped in with their right foot when drawing their blade from the sheathe in a standard battoujutsu draw. At least that was what he remembered from the countless of times that he had sparred with Okita back in the day. He didn't understand why Kenshin would step in with his _left_ foot--

He, along with Tatsu and Aya, were pushed a few steps back from where they had been standing as a blast of pressure from the clash between the enemy swordsman's blade and Kenshin's sakabatou – nearly twice as powerful as Okita's first clash against the swordsman – reached them. To him, it felt like a close detonation of a cannonade, but as fast as they had been driven those few steps back, they were stumbling forward in the next moment as the initial moment of clarity passed.

Tetsu tried to draw a breath but found that he oddly couldn't for that next moment. But as soon as that panic had risen in his mind, it was gone in an instant as he saw Kenshin's sakabatou clear the hurdle, and literally lifted and yanked the swordsman's sword out of his hands. Not even a blink of an eye later, the rest of Kenshin's sakabatou smashed into the enemy swordsman. The swordsman was flung into the air and hurtled back towards where Okita was still standing.

Instead of being bowled over by just how fast the now unconscious swordsman had been sent flying, Okita merely stood his ground and stopped the swordsman's momentum with an outstretched arm. With his sword still tightly gripped in his right hand, he saw him shift the unconscious swordsman to his left so that the swordsman was half-draped over. Tetsu wanted to approach, seeing that the fight was now over, but beyond where his friend was standing he saw Saitou approaching, dragging someone behind him. Somehow, the policeman had miraculously survived that gunpowder explosion, though it did not escape his notice that Saitou had not escaped uninjured.

It was Aya who moved first, but he scrambled quickly after her, just as Kenshin and Okita turned their attention to Saitou and his approach. Wordlessly, the policeman slid the body of a woman he had been dragging by the collar of her kimono towards Aya. Tetsu saw the former spymaster unceremoniously haul up the woman before slinging her over her shoulder like a sack of grain.

“Take the kid, Tetsunosuke,” Aya ordered, gesturing with a nod of her head towards the unconscious swordsman still being held up by Okita. “Tatsunosuke, pick up and bring that swordswoman,” she continued to say, gesturing towards the woman with the burnt mantle and clothes lying on the ground. “We're leaving.”

Still quite stunned at what had happened so quickly, Tetsu could only mutely nod as he approached Okita, who silently handed him the swordsman. “Okita-san,” he began, taking the unconscious swordsman, while looking for signs of the illness that plagued his friend. He despaired, for he could not find even one usual speck of the symptoms that he had seen before. It was terrifying to him to see his friend looking so healthy, so normal, and yet knowing that that was what was going to possibly kill him once everything was over.

He didn't get to say anymore as Okita shook his head slightly before saying, “Go, Tetsu-kun. This fight is not yet over.”

He opened his mouth to say something in protest, to voice his concern that he did not want his friend to die, that he could not bear to see repeated shades of what Hijikata had looked like and the words that his master had parted to him just as the Imperialists were advancing on Hakodate all those years ago. However, he never got a chance to, for Okita had immediately stepped away from him, walking to where Kenshin was now facing – towards the destructive blurs fighting on the southwest side of the fort.

It was only after Saitou had passed him as well that he finally snapped out of his speechless fugue and declared, “We'll hold the ship. We'll wait for you! Don't die. Not today, not tomorrow, not here! Please!”

* * *

_Year: Past, Spring 1866_

_Kyoto_

 

“Hijikata-san, I've brought tea for you and your guest.”

“Stay, Saitou. There is a sensitive matter that I need to discuss with both you and Souji,” the vice-commander ordered, before getting up to open the partition to let Okita in.

He was rather surprised that such a meeting was happening, especially without the presence of Kondou – not that his reporting to Hijikata about Itou's activities were already clandestine. Their commander and Itou were currently away from the compound. Kondou was most likely also spending some time at his mistress' place, though the official word was that both Kondou and Itou were conducting some business at the Aizu clan's main house.

As Okita knelt and parsed out the cups of tea with expertise that he expected that a page such as Ichimura should have been doing, but kept hearing rumors that the whelp couldn't even brew proper tea, he noticed that Hijikata had taken a quick look up and down the halls before sliding the partition close. So the meeting was planned, but was still a secret meeting. Considering recent circumstances and those present, Saitou could only assume that this meeting had something to do with the Hitokiri Battousai – his report a few weeks ago about Itou's strangely encrypted message not withstanding.

“In light of certain recent information that I received, I'm putting both of you on staggered nighttime patrols together for the next few months,” Hijikata began without preamble after taking his seat. “There is a great possibility that what we discussed with Kondou and Itou won't be entirely possible to carry out. The countryside samurai have not fought in a while, and right now, with their confidence boosted, they're all itching to fight. Given what little we know of the Battousai, but the fact that he fought both of you, we can assume with some reasonable confidence that he will want a rematch. Putting both of you on patrol together will give them reason to send their best assassin in.”

“Bait and trap,” Okita stated, the cheerful expression he had worn upon entering completely gone with his sitting in seiza next to him, Saitou.

“You're the bait, Souji,” Hijikata stated quite bluntly. “Your condition makes it so.”

“It is only temporary, Hijikata-san,” Okita answered, though Saitou thought he heard a slightly defensive tone within that statement.

“Is it?” the vice-commander challenged. However, before the argument could go any further, Hijikata returned to the topic at hand, saying, “You're the trap, Saitou. Both of you are to pick one other man you completely trust from your units to accompany you on the patrol. A four-man hunting pack will move much faster than a patrol group.”

“Assassination then,” Saitou said, the edges of his lips curling up slightly.

“Precisely,” the vice-commander stated. “The other groups and patrols will carry out what was discussed before, but the four of you will be detached and sent out whenever I deem it necessary. Deploy as either of you see fit and kill the Hitokiri Battousai.”

* * *

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

_Hakodate_

 

“Is that what Tetsu-kun had wanted to say to Hijikata-san all those years ago?” Kenshin heard Okita murmur as the two former Shinsengumi captains walked behind him.

He was not exactly sure that question was directed at Saitou for the policeman didn't even answer the question, and instead, asked, “Bait and trap?”

“We never did get to implement that, did we, Saitou-san? Was it because of your information to Hijikata-san about Itou-san's activities that day that caused him to discard the original plan involving the other captains?” Okita asked. Silence answered the former First Unit Captain and a moment later, he heard him continue to say, “I agree with the assessment. There are four of us, and I am quite sure that Himura-san and his master will discern just what needs to be done.”

Kenshin wanted to stop and turn around to demand just what the two former Shinsengumi captains were talking about, but before he could do so, he saw out of the corner of his eyes, Okita pass him by. The swordsman's running speed was slower than what he had seen him deploy against Soujirou, but there was still a great amount of strength within his presence. Whatever had been sustaining the swordsman was fading, and fading fast. He knew that his master had been fighting Daisuke for a while, and even with all of his strength, his master had not yet been able to defeat Daisuke. If he and the others wanted to affect any change in that outcome, they needed to immediately do so.

“It was a plan that the Shinsengumi _fukuchou_ came up with to specifically assassinate you in Kyoto, Battousai,” Saitou stated as he too passed him by, but not in the speed in which Okita had disappeared to first disrupt the fight against Daisuke and his master. “But in this particular juncture in time, it is just as applicable to any practitioner of Hiten Mitsurugi.”

Saitou then too, sprinted after Okita, and not a moment later, Kenshin followed them at an oblique angle. What he saw unfold before him was the work of a genius mind who knew exactly how to utilize sword styles less powerful than Hiten Mitsurugi to effectively defeat the most powerful style; turned upon its head to defeat only a specific enemy. And he was immensely grateful that he had never again encountered the two swordsmen until Toba-Fushimi.

While he had initially thought Okita had been slowing down because of the compounding effects of the disease that wracked him, he realized it was not so. There was a very deliberate slowness to the attack that the swordsman was unleashing as a disruption to the fight. _Hirasegan_ led the way, and while it did break up the clash between his master and Daisuke, Kenshin felt his eyes widen slightly as he saw Daisuke turn to regard this new threat as nothing more than an annoying fly.

However, rather than let _Souryuusen_ hit him, just as Daisuke's blade was about to rake across, Okita disappeared before all of their eyes. In between the arc of Daisuke's blade and the scabbard clearing the empty space that now stood, Saitou was standing where Okita had stood and unleashed the full force _Gatotsu – Zero Shiki_. Daisuke barely blocked the tip of Saitou's blade with his scabbard, but the momentum of his spin couple with Saitou's attack unbalanced him.

Just before the swordsman could be sent shooting back, potentially getting clear and able to prepare for another attack, Okita reappeared behind Daisuke. The former First Unit Captain struck with the lightning-fast three-pointed signature move that he had seen done before. The only difference between what he usually saw the areas that _Sandanzuki_ struck was that the three points were shifted slightly to pressure-point areas, not vital areas. The force of Saitou's point-blank _Gatotsu_ and Okita's modified strike at nearly the same time effectively pinned Daisuke to where he was before the swordsman could even deploy _shukuchi_ to get away.

Even before Daisuke was pinned, Kenshin had already seen the opportunity, and raced in. What had been planned was a multi-directional attack, designed to take advantage of the narrow alleyways of Kyoto and of the limited people that could fight at once. There was only one way out of such a trap, and that was up.

Leaping in, he struck from on high, slamming his sakabatou and _Ryuutsuisen_ down against the raised blade of Daisuke. The swordsman was momentarily pinned, but that moment was more than enough for the final blow to be dealt. He found it incredibly hard to breathe as the dust and debris being crushed from his master's approach and oppressive, terrifyingly strong presence wrapped around all of them like a coiled tentacle of an octopus that was squeezing the life out of them.

The angled strike of his master's _Amakakeruryuu no Hirameki_ lifted and sent all of them flying away, but Kenshin found his footing at the apex of his flight high into the sky. He managed to control his descent to land on the ground on a foot and knee with bone-jarring, but not breaking force. Looking up, he saw the dust cloud around Okita fading just as the swordsman halted his slide backwards with an outstretched, splayed left hand and his blade stabbed forcefully into the ground. Saitou had managed to remain standing, but he too had stabbed his blade into the ground, though a moment later, it broke with the amount of force that the policeman had put into halting himself. His master's strike and subsequent follow through had dug a trench into the ground, but fearing the worst, he looked over to where his master's blade was still being held outstretched in the finishing move.

The blade had been reversed.

Relief swept through him, as he the shifted his gaze towards the body of Daisuke who was lying a few paces away, unconscious. He could feel nothing, not even a stirring of the swordsman's presence at all. Daisuke was not going to wake up any time soon; not like the first time he had fought against him. It was over. It was finally over.

An unusual gurgling sound startled him and caused him to widen his eyes in shock as he looked over towards Okita, just in time to see him coughing up a lot of blood before collapsing to the ground, unmoving. He tried to get up from where he had been kneeling, but the oppressive, shortness of breath that wracked him seemed to not go away. The threat was over, the fight done, and the battle won – why was his master's presence still keeping him from moving, from going to an ally's aid--

Searing pain lanced through him as each and every shift of his movement suddenly felt like fire was being poured onto him. Each breath he took felt like glass was being swallowed down his throat, each movement of his body curling up in pain was unbearable, and he let slip a cry in agony. Something was wrong, something was very wrong with his body. He knew then, as his sakabatou slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground and blessed darkness over took him, that the inevitable had finally come to pass.

His days as a wielder of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu were over.

* * *

Despite himself, Tetsu dusted his hands as he hauled the last of the three unconscious prisoners into the area where they were tied up to the posts with quite a lot of rope. The town was still eerily quiet, but all the unconscious members of the Guard they had passed on the outer perimeter of the fort as they made their way to the docks and to the ship that had brought them here, had not stirred. The force of the gunpowder explosion had knocked most of them out, but more than a few had had a few bruises and the like on their foreheads, signaling to him that perhaps some of the townsfolk or dare he say it, the policemen had attacked and made the rest unconscious.

He didn't know what to think of that, for just based on the information that Aya had given them, it seemed that the police were corrupt, but perhaps they weren't... Shaking his head, he looked up just as a clatter on the ramp to the ship was heard. Moments later, he heard Tatsu shout, “They're coming! Saitou-san and the others, they're coming!”

Scrambling up from where he had finished up tying the last of their arrested prisoners, his heart soared with elation – his prayers had been answered, and his friends were still alive. They were all going to go back to Tokyo – this was not a repeat of the words he had wanted to beg Hijikata to listen to but could not say all those years ago. The past was not repeating itself.

Dashing out with a wide smile upon his face, his elation at the return of his friends was completely dashed as he stopped short of running down the ramp. The corners of his lips quickly turned down as panic seized him – only two of the four were walking towards them. Saitou was walking, but there was a slowness to how he moved towards them, owing completely to just how injured he looked. A man looking much like those of the Seta family whom he could only assume was Kenshin's master, was also walking, but he was carrying someone in his arms. Horror gripped him as he saw that it was Kenshin with a limp arm hanging a bit haphazardly to the side. His cousin's eyes were closed. However, his horror turned into absolute fear as he saw that behind the two were two policemen, carrying a stretcher. Lying on the stark white stretcher was Okita.

“Kenshin! Okita-san!” he couldn't help but cry out, but did not move until they were all aboard the ship. “Are they alive!” he demanded as the officers set Okita down, while Kenshin's master had gently placed Kenshin down on a bench.

“Get this ship across the strait as fast as possible,” he heard Saitou order the captain of the ship.

“Y-yes, sir,” the captain stuttered slightly as Tetsu glanced up from where he was kneeling next to Okita who looked paler than the white stretcher he was lying upon. Even the setting sun could not give the pale skin of his friend any color.

He saw the Hakodate officers leave the ship and saw Saitou follow the officers, pausing on the ramp to turn back to Aya who was standing near him with a worried expression upon her face. “Matsumoto, do what you can for them, and send a rider down to Tokyo for reinforcements. I'll remain here for the time being.” He saw the policeman withdraw a burnt book of sorts from within and toss it to the former spymaster. “That's the evidence Tokyo will need.”

“Will do.”

* * *

_Aomori_

 

“Is that the last of the supplies?” Susumu asked as he turned from where he was working and saw Misao, Eiji, and Yahiko bring in three crates that were filled with the necessary ingredients that he needed to make the medicine to distribute to at least a few of the surrounding villages.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Misao answered, placing the crate down before wandering over to where her cousin was working on mixing several ground herbs.

“Yamazaki-sensei! Yamazaki-sensei!” the yell of a man pounding on the door outside of the inn that he and the others were staying in startled all of them. “A ship is coming in from Hakodate!”

He was not the only one to drop tools and the like as the three children along with Misao briefly ran into each other in their hurry to get to the entrance to get out. Grabbing his medical bag near the door, he let them out first and wisely, the policeman who had alerted them to the incoming ship had jumped out of the way. He was faster than all the children, though Misao was just a little faster than he was, in running down the streets towards the docks.

Civilians and policemen dove out of their way, though Susumu suspected that it had more to do with the fact that at least a patrol group of officers were following them in their wake. A general alarm had not been sounded through the port, but he could hear the clatter of sabres and batons, along with what little rifles they had here, being wielded by the running policemen. They could not take any chances, even though a part of him was quite sure that the incoming ship was not a threat.

Lit and brightly burning oil lamps dotted the edges of the docks, though it was the dinging sound of the ship's bell and its looming shadow being cast upon the lit parts of the docks as it slid to a halt that told them where the ship had docked. Workers securing it cast lines and slid the ramp towards the end of the ship, but just as the edge of the ramp landed upon the deck of the ship, a streak of red-hair tore down the ramp.

“Susumu!” Tetsu's panicked shout blasted into his ears even before he reached the edge of the docks. “Kenshin... Okita-san... they're severely injured--”

He didn't need his friend to say anymore as he pushed Tetsu back towards the ship, running with him. Turning his head back for a moment, he shouted towards the others, “Eiji and Yahiko, get two rooms at the inn ready! Misao and Yuki, go fetch hot water and wood for fire!”

He had warned both swordsmen months ago during the crisis in Kyoto about what would happen if they pushed themselves beyond their limits. Their actions in Kyoto had come close to fulfilling the truth of that warning. He was also quite sure that Dr. Takani had done the same, for the symptoms that Himura displayed were quite obvious as to what the swordsman was suffering from. As he boarded the ship, he passed several tied up prisoners who looked awake but could not move or say a thing, due to how tight they were tied to the support poles and the gags over their mouths. He was led to where the two swordsmen were lying, it seemed that the battle at Hakodate had necessitated both of them to fight beyond what they were capable of.

With one look at two of the greatest swordsmen that the bloody revolution had produced, Susumu knew then that the era would never again count on the two to defend it. It was truly an end of an era, but their lives were not over yet – not if he could help it.

 

~*~*~*~

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

_Year: Present, Autumn 1879_

 

Susumu sighed to himself as he slid the door shut and leaned against it. A moment later, he dragged the cloth that was tied around his nose and mouth down, letting the damp, cold air briefly invigorate him. At the rear of the inn where the outhouses were, it was quiet. Even though the inn itself was not at all noisy, he found himself needing the ambient noise that came with standing outside. The two patients that needed his attention the most did not make any ambient noise of the sort – both were still unconscious, but breathing easier for now, though neither looked to be stirring any time soon. He needed the noise to remind himself that he was not tending to two people who by all rights should be dead, but were stubborn enough to cling onto life.

It had been three days since Himura and the others had returned to Aomori, three days since the successful rescue of Tatsunosuke, three days since the successful capture of the leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards. However, it had also been three days since Saitou had been left behind at Hakodate to 'clean up' whatever mess had been left. Both Aya and Tatsunosuke had stated that Saitou was quite injured, and that worried him. The policeman had not yet returned even after several Aomori policemen, on the order of their chief, immediately boarded the ferry boat as soon as Himura and the others had been taken off and sailed to Hakodate to assist Saitou.

Surprisingly, not a day after the return of Himura and the others, a small contingent of Imperial Army, hastily mustered according to the broom-headed man, Sawagejou Chou, by Yamagata Aritomo, arrived at Aomori. Chou had been scarce on details about the reasons why and how, but Susumu was not looking for the details. They too had been immediately sent across the strait, and no one had heard back from them yet. As for the broom-headed man, Susumu had heard that Aya had ordered the man to take information back down to Tokyo and to call for more reinforcements. Considering just how stretched the Imperial forces were and of the police presence, Susumu wondered how they were going to muster more to send up, especially after the first unexpected one was quite small.

As if they did not have anymore headaches to deal with, skirmishes from those people still in the grip of the opiate-laced tea continued to flare up in the three days since. On one hand, while Susumu was grateful that there was something to occupy Yahiko and the others' attention, he was also quite frustrated – the dosages that he needed to prescribe to those here in Aomori were nearly triple that of those prescribed in Tokyo. The region's supplies were not enough to combat and reverse the insensibility that still gripped the populace.

It had also been two days since he had sent a hawk down to Tokyo, specifically to inform Dr. Takani of just how the opiate-laced tea was administered and how the words that triggered the change within people was implanted. Though outwardly, Aya showed barely any emotional concern for her husband other than an occasional glimpse of worry washing over her face, Susumu knew that she was terrified. It was extremely subtle and only a fully trained shinobi such as he was able to pick up the clues she gave away.

He could mainly see it in the way she carried herself, even if she did not spend all of her waking hours by her husband's side. He realized that he had seen such signs before from her – not counting what happened in Kyoto several months ago – but long ago. He had seen it the first time when Okita had collapsed in the midst of battle in Edo just before they had all evacuated; when he and other doctors had thought that Okita would succumb to his disease. He had thought that it was because of other circumstances that caused her to behave oddly back then, but now he knew – she had been grieving. She had known back then that Okita would most likely die within a month or two after they all left Edo. She was both extremely worried and on the verge of grieving again now, even after Yuki had pestered him, Susumu, for constant updates on his patient's health.

He wanted to give her hope, but he couldn't even bring himself to do such a thing. Himura would live, that was quite certain, but by all rights Okita should have died at the fort. Something, force of will or otherwise, was still keeping the swordsman alive. While that flame was still burning, he did all he could to at least heal his patient enough to allow him to open his eyes. Thus, all he gave Aya was what he thought would happen to the swordsman _if_ he lived through the next few days and weeks, _and_ survived the winter: time.

The time they had left together: a year or two at the most. The herbal medication that he and Dr. Matsumoto had prescribed long ago was most likely now ineffective. He surmised that it would hold back some symptoms, but because Okita had coughed out blood during the Kyoto incident a few months ago and now, stopping the progression of the disease completely would be all but impossible. Susumu knew that he could try to create a new mixture, but because the swordsman had been taking so much herbal medication in the years gone by, his body would find any new mixture, no matter how potent, normal and not take to it like it had before.

Susumu had told her his professional opinion in private, after he found out from Tatsunosuke that she had undergone the opiate-tea trigger-word control process and survived with her mind intact. He dared not tell that prognosis to Yuki, knowing that it would utterly crush the boy. Again, she gave no outward sign of her grief and instead, focused most of her energies into compiling a comprehensive report to Tokyo and telling him what the process involved to 'convert' someone unwilling to serve the Chrysanthemum Guards. He had been utterly surprised at how exactly she had survived that process, but considering what she used to do during the revolution, he knew that he really shouldn't have been. After all, it was she who had proposed the radical idea of combating a poison with another poison during that time when he and several other Shinsengumi members had been poisoned by _demon's bane_ -laced blades.

That report had been sent by hawk to Tokyo with all haste, and he hoped that Dr. Gensai and Dr. Takani would be able to create a more effective method to 'deactivate' those who may not yet have been 'activated'. In that report, he had also sent a request to Aoshi to find Dr. Matsumoto and to request a ship from the police, the Imperial Army, or wherever they could get one on short notice. He needed to get his two most critical patients down south for a more comprehensive and thorough care. He just did not have the materials or time to divide up here in Aomori.

Both Himura and Okita carried authorization papers signed by Yamagata Aritomo. While the government may not have thought they owed someone as notorious as Okita any gratefulness for what he had done, he thought they definitely owed Himura his due. He knew that the former hitokiri had all but sacrificed his life to stop Shishio Makoto, Yukishirou Enishi, parts of the foreign agents infiltration from the summer, and now this Chrysanthemum Guards debacle. He would be damned if he didn't make sure that the leader of the Imperial Army shipped at least Himura back to Tokyo with all haste.

* * *

_Tokyo_

 

Tokio looked up from cleaning the dishes with the well water, absently handing one to Kaoru who was drying them and stacking them on a tray as the outer door to the courtyard of her home opened. The children, Ayame and Suzume, were bringing small amounts of the stacks into the kitchen. She knew the presence, and thus did not raise the alarm as she stood up and dried her hands on the apron she was wearing over her kimono. Shinomori walked further in a moment later with a small folded piece of paper in his hands.

“News from Aomori via hawk,” Shinomori stated as Kaoru had also stood up and dried her hands, looking a bit apprehensive but grateful at the same time. Dr. Gensai, Reika, and Dr. Takani had stopped their work. Even her guests who were staying in the spare rooms in her house for the time being had stopped what they was doing in entertaining and occupying little Tsutomu's attention.

“They've captured the leaders of the Chrysanthemum Guards, but Himura and Shirou-sensei have both been severely injured--”

“Kenshin!” Kaoru started, but Tokio was quick enough to catch the woman by her arms and hold her up from collapsing into the ground.

“Yamazaki has requested that Yamagata send a ship with all haste up to Sendai to bring both Himura and Shirou-sensei down. He doesn't have the resources at Aomori, and he needs Matsumoto-sensei's help.”

“I can go fetch the doctor, Aoshi,” Reika immediately volunteered. “Aoshi, if you would please take over my duties in guarding Ichimura-san?”

“I will.”

“Hmm, last I heard, Matsumoto-sensei was in Chiba, Takahashi-san,” Dr. Gensai mused. “You'd best start there.”

“I can help you with the request for the ship, Shinomori-san,” Tokio said, glancing over at Kaoru as she nodded her thanks, able to keep herself steady on her feet again. “Yamagata-sama may not be the most pleasant of people to convince when it comes to things--”

“Please, Tokio-dono,” one of her guests interrupted as they all glanced back towards the main room that was opened towards the courtyard to see an old man step out. Tatsunosuke's wife had also taken little Tsutomu aside as the former patriarch of the Yukishirou family stepped out into the courtyard. “Allow me to convince my son and the ship's captain to return up north and fetch Himura-dono and the others.”

“Yukishirou-san...” Kaoru began, looking immensely relieved.

“Do you know where Enishi was last seen, Shinomori-dono?” the old man politely asked.

“South west area of the city, near the warehouse district,” the Kyoto spymaster answered. “He was searching for former contacts within a particular import syndicate. I will go with you.”

“Then I hope that we shall set sail by the day's end and hopefully reach Sendai in three days,” the old man answered.

“I'll be traveling with you then,” Dr. Takani said, kneeling down to gather her things.

However, Shinomori surprisingly interrupted her, saying, “Yamazaki requests that you stay here, Takani-sensei--”

“Like hell he gets to dictate what I should be doing,” she spat out, not even pausing in her packing of the materials that she needed. “I've treated Ken-san many times in the past; more than he has. I know what Hiten Mitsurugi can do to him.”

The Kyoto spymaster was unfazed at her rude words and continued to say, “He also received a detailed account of how exactly ordinary people who have drank opiate-laced tea are turned into agents of the Chrysanthemum Guards.” Shinomori removed the second sheet of paper that was behind the first missive and handed it to Dr. Gensai. The doctor took one look at it before his eyes widened in pure shock.

“This... this is...” the doctor started but fell silent, shakily staring at the paper.

Dr. Takani rose up from where she had been crouched as curiosity also over took Kaoru and the two women approached the flummoxed doctor. Tokio was curious as well, but restrained herself from approaching, knowing that some summary of what was contained on the paper would be stated soon. “Fight poison with poison,” Takani stated, frowning. “We don't even have enough herbal supplies in the region, let alone poisonous ones to do that. Not to mention that there might be _children_ who have taken the laced tea...”

“Not if the mixture is modified with a pinch of finely crushed sun-lantern seeds to start the catalyst,” Gensai stated, rubbing his chin in deep thought.

“And mixed with pine needle tea to simulate...yes,” Takani followed up, nodding vigorously.

“What resources do you need?” Shinomori interrupted.

“We'll draw a list up for you, Shinomori-san,” Gensai answered, looking up with a mixture of worry and hope gracing his face. “However, this will require more than the two of us working around the clock to create a stronger mixture. To completely distribute to every person and for them to drink only that medicinal tea for three days straight, will require the full authority and imposition of the government... and a lot more doctors than just the two of us.”

“Kaoru and I will petition certain people to bring the case up to the appropriate people,” Tokio said, gently interrupting them. “However, since Yamazaki-sensei is having trouble up north, might I suggest that Takani-sensei go with Yukishirou-san to help? Kaoru and I will help you, Gensai-sensei, in creating the new mixture. This eradication of those who are under the control of the Guards will take a very long time, but our immediate concern is Himura-san and the others. Let us solve that issue first.”

“I agree,” Takani stated, looking around and catching the affirmative nods of everyone gathered.

“Please send a message back up north, then, Shinomori-san,” the old man said. “I'm sure that the doctor and those up there can use some good news from all of us here.”

* * *

_Late at night, Aomori_

 

Despite the merrily burning irori and the warmth of the thick futon upon his back and blanket he was lying underneath, Susumu found that he could not even settle his mind. He found himself staring at the burning embers of the in-ground hearth. Misao, Yahiko, and Eiji had set up a watch rotation around the inn, even though the chances of those who served the Guards attacking this establishment were quite slim. Aomori policemen had the captured Guard members under close scrutiny and guard, with Aya most likely among those guarding them.

He remembered that she usually threw herself into work to keep herself from thinking about any injured friends too much, much less her husband. It was better for Okita to get as much rest as possible without too many distractions, even though the man had yet to open his eyes. Finally, Yuki had taken over watching the two critically injured patients for a few hours, urging him to get some rest. Sleep eluded him and from the shifting sounds of the two who shared this room at the inn with him, it eluded them too.

“Tatsu-nii, while you.... while you were with Katsura and the others before the end of the war, did you ever see Katsura's page?” he heard Tetsu whisper to his brother, trying to keep his voice as low as possible to not disturb his, Susumu, sleep.

While he had been caring for his patients, the Ichimura brothers had been busy in 'translating' the half-burnt book that had been retrieved from Goryoukaku. Not only had it occupied their minds and distracted them from the condition of their comrades, he had heard snippets of what they had 'translated' – all of it bad. But he had more immediate things to worry and care for and thus did not let the small trickle of information about the book that was tightly controlled by Aya affect him.

“No, I didn't. I knew he had one, but had left his service a month or so before I arrived. Why?”

There was a moment of silence before Tetsu said, “No, it's nothing. Don't worry about it.”

He heard his friend shift and could only assume that Tetsu had turned over to his side and curl up slightly as he was prone to do whenever in a melancholic state. It seemed that though Tatsunosuke had been minimally involved in the foreign agents debacle over the summer, the elder Ichimura had not known that Kitamura Suzu had become Katsura Kogoro's page after the death of Yoshida Toshimaro. He couldn't help but wonder what if Tatsunosuke had encountered Kitamura back then? Would things have been different now?

However, the pitter-patter of footsteps hurrying down the hall sent the fuzziness of his mind to the corners as he sat up, throwing the warm blanket off of him just as the partition to the room slid open. “Sorry for waking you up, Yamazaki-sensei,” Yahiko whispered, though there was really no need for the boy to do so – both Tetsu and his brother had also sat up, alerted to the commotion. “Misao received a hawk with a note attached. It's addressed to you, but she said the handwriting looks like Aoshi's handwriting.”

Going over to the boy, he took the folded message from the boy and went over to sit next to the irori. Using the in-ground hearth as his source of light, he opened the message. It was shorter than he expected, but with the words written upon them, it instead, brought a smile upon his face. He had almost forgotten what it was like to smile as he reread the message before folding it back up.

“Yahiko, please let those at the police station and your friends know that we'll be leaving by train in two days. Have them send a message to Saitou as well. Aoshi and the others have successfully sent a ship up to Sendai. Himura, Okita.... all of us – we're all going home,” he said.

* * *

_Five days later, somewhere on the water between Sendai and Yokohama..._

 

The first thing Kenshin felt was a twinging feeling that started at the tip of his toes and slowly grew to a dull, aching pain that ran up his foot, through his legs, and up across the rest of his body. Each breath that he took after that sent a wave of a tingly feeling across his chest that did not feel good at all. He also became aware that he was lying on a cot, and there was an oddly soothing sound of waves lapping the hull that almost lulled him back to sleep. However, the murmurs of soft voices near him was what kept him awake, though he kept his eyes closed and sought to enjoy more of the sound of the waves than of the voices. He preferred the fact that he could hear natural sounds that told him he was still alive.

“How many more days do I have to drink this?” he heard the murmured complaint of Matsumoto Aya say.

“Two more days. It's a minimum three days of constant dosage, Aya,” he heard Dr. Yamazaki state. “Sorry. I know it tastes terrible, and you've not even showing symptoms of opium addiction or what we saw in Tokyo, Sendai, or Aomori. But I recommended to Saitou that we dose everyone who has been potentially exposed to the opiate-laced tea.”

“At least you're not suffering alone, Aya-san,” he heard the self-depreciating tone of Tatsunosuke say.

“Yeah,” he heard Yahiko grouse and the murmurs of agreement from the other children, though Misao seemed a little more vocal about it. “This is the nastiest thing I've ever drank,” the boy continued to state. “I'm going to be tasting this in my mouth even after three days.”

“The best medicine are the ones that taste the worst, Myoujin-kun.”

It was then that Kenshin opened his eyes, surprised to hear an unexpected voice, even though weak, issue up into the conversation. He had a moment to glance over towards his left to see that lying on another cot, though looking much too pale to even be considered healthy, was Okita. The swordsman had thick covers drawn up to his chin and there was a white handkerchief covering the lower half of his face.

“Kenshin!”

Tetsunosuke's exclamation, this time louder and definitely near him instead of the fuzzy far-away voice that he had been half-paying attention to, drew his attention. He turned back to see his cousin staring at him with a relieved look. There was a new eye-patch over his cousin's right eye, but other than that and the bandages were wrapped around various areas where he had been injured during the fight at Hakodate, Tetsunosuke looked quite hale.

There was a commotion, and Kenshin glanced down from where he was lying to see Yahiko and Misao scrambling up from where they had been sitting on what looked like cargo crates. They and the other children had been sipping the medicinal mixture from metal cups. “Oy, stay where you are and finish your medicine,” he heard Dr. Yamazaki sternly admonish the two. “Yuki, make sure they do so.”

He did not miss the half-snort that Matsumoto had made into her own mug as the both Misao and Yahiko, surprised by the uncharacteristic outburst from the normally calm doctor, sat right back down. He even managed to glance over towards where Tatsunosuke was also sitting upon a cargo crate to see him mournfully looking into his cup before continuing to drink the medicine. Judging by the crates and the sounds of water lapping against wood, he had to guess that they were on a cargo ship of sorts.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Tetsunosuke move out of the way as both Dr. Yamazaki and surprisingly, Megumi, filled his vision and helped him sit up slightly. He couldn't hide the pain he was in as he was moved to begin the examination, but rather than conduct an examination, he saw the doctor glance over towards Megumi, shaking his head slightly and sigh. “No... conducting an exam at the moment would be useless. You're healing, Himura-san but it's still too early to tell how permanent your injuries will become,” the doctor stated.

“I agree,” Megumi answered, but drew a part of the covers back and lifted up the right sleeve of his yukata to quickly check the bandages wrapped around his arm.

He nodded in understanding, though before the two doctors could ease him back down to a horizontal position on the cot to rest some more, footsteps on the wooden stairs on in the middle of the cargo hold, along with a familiar presence, were heard. “Any adverse effects from the medicine, Yamazaki?” Saitou asked without preamble, stopping short of actually entering the area.

He saw the policeman glance at him for a brief moment, acknowledging that he was awake. Saitou was quite bandaged as well, but seemed to think of the injuries that he had sustained as more nuisances than anything else. Surprisingly, Dr. Yamazaki didn't even turn back towards the policeman, saying, “Not right now, Saitou. Takani-sensei and I have a patient who just woke up and needs our attention--”

“No adverse effects,” Matsumoto spoke up, as Kenshin saw the former spymaster rise up from where she had been sitting, bringing her mug with her. “Though he will have to be dosed for at least three days.”

It took him a moment to realize what the two were talking about, and despite the pain lancing up and down his body whenever he moved, much less took a breath, he pushed both Megumi and Dr. Yamazaki's hands away, saying, “Saitou, what happened? What happened to Seta Soujirou?”

Just as Dr. Yamazaki made a frustrated noise in protest while Megumi immediately sported a cross look, Saitou leveled a cool look at him before saying, “Nothing that you should concern yourself with, Battousai.”

“He was coerced, Saitou,” he pressed, even though he knew that he was drawing the annoyed ire of the doctors by refusing to let the matter drop and continue to rest. He felt that he could not, not until he got a proper answer. He believed that the young man truly was trying to atone for all that he had done. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before saying, “You didn't pursue him last year. Why do so now when it was clear that he had no control over his actions at the fort?”

“By the time the dust had settled in Aomori, the 13th Master had all but disappeared,” Matsumoto spoke up, folding her hands over her arms as she stood next to Saitou, with nearly the same expression that Saitou carried, upon her face. “Regretfully, we did not have the resources or manpower to pursue him--”

“Wait a minute! You can't be serious about accusing Kenshin's master--” Yahiko exclaimed, but surprisingly, it was Tatsunosuke who had risen from where he had been sitting and clamped a hand over the boy's mouth. Yahiko squirmed a bit before Misao hissed something at him, quieting him.

The former Kyoto spymaster continued as if the interruption had not taken place, saying, “Thus, in order to successfully prosecute and show evidence to Yamagata and the others, Seta Soujirou is our only key witness. Of course those at Hakodate and elsewhere on the island of Hokkaido can also be witnesses, but due to their complicity in what operations the Chrysanthemum Guards have carried out, they are not reliable. There is little room for Seta to negotiate once he is confirmed to have fully regained his senses, but it is not entirely the end for him.”

Kenshin frowned, but he did not dispute the words said. He understood the implicit meaning behind it, and though he was unhappy with what would possibly happen to the young man, he did remember what Soujirou had told him. “And what of the others?” he quietly asked. “What of Okita Midori and her brother?”

It was as much for his own curiosity and for the fact that he found himself concerned at the exposure that Okita would receive if word got out to the public that relatives of the infamous Shinsengumi captain were still alive. Saitou, Okita, and other Shinsengumi members who survived the revolution deserved to live their lives in anonymity, however much that others thought they didn't deserve it. Kenshin knew and understood just how much being unknown to people this day and age meant. Since it seemed that both Okita Midori and her brother had willingly joined the Chrysanthemum Guards, it would ruin their family if word got out – which judging from how widespread the activities of the Guards were, it would.

Instead of directly answering his question, he saw Matsumoto take one last drink out of her mug before setting it down on a crate and clasped her hands in front of her. Her demeanor didn't change as she said, “We already started interrogating Seta Yuna and her people, though the information given is not entirely reliable until we can confirm it with her son. As for both Okita Midori and Okita Kiyoshi, their answers to our questions have not been forthcoming. However, from what was retrieved in the ruins of the fort, we can confirm a few things:

“There are agents, willing ones, everywhere. They operate much like shinobi clans in gathering information except that they do not spend time in the shadows as we usually do. They were clansmen from high-ranking Shogunate clans to farmers and everything in between. Their occupation was their cover, and unlike shinobi who have to disguise themselves in order to infiltrate places, they just listened and verbally passed on information to others. Whether or not they knew what they were gossiping about to others were also agents is debatable, but there was one thing they had that shinobi clans didn't have: detailed information about the most insignificant persons to live in this country. That is the difference between how the Chrysanthemum Guards operates and how a shinobi clan like the Oniwabanshuu operates.”

“Using that detail about lives of even the lowliest fisherman gave them the information needed to seed and 'activate' unwilling agents at the right time, didn't it, Matsumoto-san?” Tatsunosuke asked, releasing his hold upon Yahiko, who looked a bit annoyed and put out, but didn't say another word.

“Yes,” the former spymaster answered. “We suspect but cannot confirm that their 'seeded' agents, such as Seta Soujirou, were supposed to be a safeguard in case the country was invaded by foreign powers. What Seta Yuna told us could all be a complete lie, but there are some truth to her words: that is every 'seeded' agent would have been 'activated' in a manner befitting the Guards' interest. Whether that would be for maximum damage to something or someone is irrelevant.”

“How...how do you stop something like that?” Tetsunosuke asked after a moment of silence with only the creaking of the ship and slap of the waves upon the hull filling the silence.

“If only a fraction of what she said is true, it will be extremely difficult to dismantle such a network. The Oniwabanshuu have all but retired and even then, we voluntarily did so,” Matsumoto said, glancing over towards Dr. Yamazaki for a moment before focusing her attention back upon all of them. “The Chrysanthemum Guards... they're driven by an ideal that is greater than themselves, and so long as one of them is alive to spread that idea, its impossible to stop them. It's much like the Ishinshishi's original ideal of revering the Emperor and expelling the barbarians, or those ideals that drove the formation of the Ezo Republic.”

“Capturing their leader and disabling their most powerful weapon in the form of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu is a start, but given the social infrastructure, the Guards will still be able to function even without a leader,” Saitou stated. “Publicly executing their leaders and practitioners would only make them martyrs.”

“So then, you will hand them to the Emperor, Yamagata-san, and the others for judgment?” Kenshin asked, his frown getting slightly deeper, though he could feel the acute protests of his muscles at such a small action.

“Integration and assimilation is more likely to happen, given Seta's apparent zeal for the approval of the Emperor himself. But she will never be able to actually see him,” the policeman stated.

“But that is our problem, Himura-san,” Matsumoto said, pulling out two folded sheets of paper from within the folds of her clothes. He caught a glimpse of the folded sheets, recognizing them to be the letter of authority that Yamagata had given both him and Okita. However, rather than return it to them, she tossed both papers into the brazier that was near the cots. The flames briefly lit up and greedily licked, curled, and blackened the papers until they were only ashes. “Both of you have already done more than enough to help.”

He remained silent and a few moments later, Saitou stood up and left the makeshift infirmary. Matsumoto followed the policeman a few minutes later after checking up upon Okita who looked to have fallen asleep either before or just after the conversation ended. As her footsteps up the creaking stairs faded, Dr. Yamazaki took that opportunity to shoo Yahiko and the others out, having finished drinking their medicine, to let all of them rest. However, as he allowed Megumi to help him settle back down into the cot, he saw Tetsunosuke pause at the foot of the stairs.

Turning around and withdrawing what looked like a folded letter, Tetsunosuke approached him again and set the paper down next to his right hand, saying, “Your master left this with me back in Aomori. He left right after Susumu confirmed that you would survive your injuries. I'm sorry that I didn't give it to you earlier. I forgot about it until just now.”

“There's no need to apologize, that there is not,” he said, lifting his hand slightly to take and hold the letter down. “Thank you.”

Tetsunosuke then left, and when the doctors had ensured that their patients were doing well, they too went upstairs to allow them to rest in relative quiet. It was only then, using the natural light that streamed through the slats of wood on the ship, that Kenshin drew the letter up. While he did not blame the fact that his master had not stayed behind to help sort the mess out, he did not expect it either.

He would not challenge or think any deeper about Matsumoto's vague statement about the fact that the she and the Aomori policemen were too busy to detain Hiko Seijuurou as a witness to the incident. In a way, that statement was similar to the statements that Saitou had made about not bothering to pursue Seta Soujirou or Yukishirou Enishi last year because it was a waste of police resources. Glancing back down, he opened the letter:

[ _My idiot apprentice: this was never something I wanted to involve you in and thus had made a pact long ago with the leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards to keep not only myself, but also you out of it. Do not hold any remorse for me with regards to them. I had stopped calling them family long before you became a whelp of an apprentice. What they did is on their own, and it was my own foolishness to think that they actually had an intention to negotiate peace between all of us. But, regardless of what happens to them, there will now truly be peace. I hope that you can forgive me for teaching you Hiten Mitsurugi and all the suffering that I had brought you, even if it was to selfishly alleviate my own. I know that you have no intention of ever passing on the style, and I am eternally grateful that you have decided upon that._

_\--XIII_ ]

A deep breath that Kenshin did not realize that he had been holding was exhaled as he folded the letter back up and tucked it within the left sleeve of the yukata that he was wearing. He could feel his chest constrict, but it was not because of his healing wounds, the sudden shortness of breath, or his muscles still ringing with pain with each minute movement he did. It was from grief.

“ _You arrogant whelp! If you want to affect a change in the current crisis, you will have to join one side or the other. Therefore, you will also be used by the people who hold the power down there!”_

His master's parting words to him when he had been still just a boy angry at the world, still haunted him. He still heard it even after he had sought forgiveness from him last year and asked... no begged to learn the succession technique. His master had never stated the words to forgive him, and now he understood just how much his master had sacrificed to try to prevent him from going down the same murderous path – and he, Kenshin, had thrown it back at him. His master had tried to atone for what he had done much as he had done after Tomoe's death. They were one in the same, repeating history over and over again.

“I promise Master,” he whispered into the quiet air, “Even though I can no longer wield our style, I will continue to do help the people in this new age. I will raise my child and guide Yahiko in the same way you tried to guide me. I will break this cycle once and for all.”

* * *

_Somewhere on a remote cliff side path in Japan..._

 

He stared down at the scabbard that gleamed and reflected the gold edgings and white finish that decorated it. The beautiful hilt was still reflecting black and gold, and the guard of the blade still looked polished, even after all the dirt, dust, debris, and blood that had been kicked up and drawn in the fights. The two dragons on either side of the katana's guard stared back at him, ruby red eyes silent and commanding.

Hiko closed his eyes in disgust and pulled back his arm. A moment later, he flung the sword with all of his might and opened his eyes in time to see the beautiful, deadly sword sheathed in an equally gorgeous scabbard sailing through the crisp, clean air of the autumnal season. As the waves crashed against the cliffs, he saw another set of waves come in that finally snatched and swallowed the ensemble whole.

What would have normally been his usual red-white cloak rippling behind him with the strong sea breeze spraying salty water into his face was not there. Instead, he was dressed in paupers' clothing, things that he found on the side of the road from making his way across to this area. Not only was it to disguise his form, but also to serve as a constant reminder when he returned to his hermitage, of what had nearly happened at Hakodate.

Staring up into the blue sky that seemed to mock him with how clear it was, he frowned. The age of the sword was truly over, and the battle won at costs that had nearly been unbearable, but the war was not over. Despite the agreement he had had with the Chrysanthemum Guards, they had managed to use him by involving Kenshin. They knew his weakness, knew of the 'familial' truce agreement that still tied him to them, and now, they were scattered and hidden even deeper. The government would never listen to someone like him, even if he tried to warn them, and he had no intention to – he definitely did not want to get further involved. He was done, and he hoped that Kenshin was not that idiotic enough to ever get involved again.

No, the battle was won for now, but the war had just only begun; and he knew that the next step for the country was to take its place on the world stage.

 

~*~*~*~

 


	22. Epilogue: Shadows

**Epilogue: Shadows**

 

“Is that your last cigarette, Saitou?”

He looked over from the horizon and port of Yokohama that was rapidly approaching as the horn of the ship they were sailing on bellowed to announce their arrival. With the wind whipping strands of her hair that was not tied up, this way and that, Matsumoto stopped beside him, but had not looked over towards him. She was no longer dressed in the furs and clothing of those who lived in the north, but was wearing a plain-looking though warm working yukata. The overcoat that she had draped over her looked quite old and patchy, but still presentable. The main Aomori station had no police uniforms her size.

He was dressed in one of the Aomori station's uniforms, his own discarded since it was no longer recoverable. While a little thicker in terms of the jacket material than the uniforms that Tokyo wore, it was still loose enough that it did not interfere with the bandages wrapped all around him. Back when he had remained in Hakodate after the end of the battle at the star fort, he had only did the most necessary tending to his wounds before setting out for Sapporo and into the wilderness.

Inhaling deeply as his last cigarette burned to the halfway mark and the ashes scattered into the wind, he remained silent as he returned his gaze out into the rapidly approaching port. “Did you manage to find them?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Fuji the Giant and Yuukyuuzan Anji's sentences have been amended, and are now temporarily working with the police force to hunt and flush out the remaining Chrysanthemum Guards on the island.”

Matsumoto remained silent, and he didn't expect her to say anything with regards to his finding of the two former Juppongatana. Despite their apparent 'victory' over those at the fort, both of them knew that it would take a very long time before they could be sure that none of the Guards remained. Saitou had a feeling that the hunt could possibly even extend beyond his own lifetime, and that annoyed him to no end. While Yamazaki's herbal tea did work and would have to be continuously produced, consumed, and distributed, it was the idea of what the Guards did that they would have a hard time killing.

“Ten years,” she suddenly spoke up as the people near where the ship was about to glide in to dock started to appear not as blurs but as individuals. “From now until ten years, that's how long I believe that this peace will last until either us, Joseon, or Russia attack.”

“Your son will be a man and able to fight,” he murmured.

“As will Eiji,” she countered. “I will not be able to stop him and neither will you be able to stop Eiji. Their little journey up to Aomori has proven otherwise.”

He took a final drag from his cigarette before removing what little was left of it from his mouth and dropped it into the ocean. The lack of mention of Okita in particular with regards to young Yuki's path in life was telling. From Matsumoto's assessment, she already knew that Okita would most definitely not be alive within that time frame. Ever since the tide had turned, he knew that the surviving Shinsengumi were living on borrowed time, even more so for Okita. He had chosen his path to continue to slay evil instantly, and he was glad that his comrade had eventually chosen the same path as well. That was all they could ask for, in this new era.

Stepping back at nearly the same time Matsumoto did as the ship made careful maneuvers to dock, he watched the hands secure the ship and those on the docks adjust the planking and gangway. Where they were docked was nearly deserted except for a large complement of policemen dressed in the dark uniforms, along with Yamagata at the head. However, standing near the gangway was Dr. Matsumoto, along with a few medical assistants dressed in white. There were two large carriages that looked like a milk carriages with their back doors opened.

As soon as the dockworkers and those on the ship had secured the gangway, the doctor and his assistants made their way up. Saitou remained where he was, and unsurprisingly, so did Matsumoto. It was already crowded enough and the less people interfered with the retrieval of the injured the better. He knew that she knew that there was nothing she could do for Okita, and would put her time to better use.

Just as he heard the noise of those down below coming up, he caught a glimpse of Yukishirou Enishi disappearing into a smaller cabin on the main deck. The cabin was carefully hidden from the view of those on the dock, but he was not about to go into the cabin to arrest a man who posed absolutely no threat to the country. As he saw Dr. Matsumoto's medical assistants make their way up the stairs and onto the main deck, carrying the first of the injured out on a stretcher, the door to small cabin on the deck opened again. A long, white-bearded old man emerged, but didn't dare approach those coming out of the hold.

Returning his attention to the noisy matter at hand, it was Himura Battousai who had emerged from the hold first. The swordsman was being carried on the stretcher, with Dr. Takani by his side murmuring instructions or descriptions of the ex-hitokiri's condition. Scrambling after the assistants and Takani was the brat, Myoujin. Eiji followed, and he caught a glimpse of his adopted son spotting him and slowing down for a moment. In response, he raise his gloved hands slightly and gestured for him to go with the others. Now that the boy was home in Tokyo, Saitou knew that Eiji would eventually return home without him even telling him to. His adopted son nodded and ran after Myoujin.

The carriage that bore the Battousai, Takani, Myoujin, Eiji, and others was well and far away before more sounds issued up from beneath the main deck. The medical assistants were definitely slower and a lot more cautious in bringing out their next patient. A heavy amount of blankets was wrapped around Okita as Saitou saw the assistants lift the stretcher up and out, with both Yamazaki and Dr. Matsumoto following closely behind. Weasel-Girl and Yuki followed the procession up, as did the Ichimura brothers, but it was Matsumoto who intercepted the four of them before they could follow the medical staff off the ship.

“Misao, take Yuki to where Aoshi is and brief him and the others on what happened. I'm sure that Kaoru, Tokio and the others will want to know we're all home.”

“But, Mother!” Yuki protested just as Saitou saw the _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu nod in understanding. “Father--”

“Matsumoto-sensei and Susumu are doing all that they can right now, Yuki,” the former spymaster said. “If you go to them now, you will only get in the way. Let them do what they need to, to save your father's life, Yuki. Once he is doing better, Susumu will let us see him.”

Hesitation swam in the boy's eyes before Saitou saw him reluctantly nod. The two left, just as Matsumoto turned to the Ichimura brothers. Saitou took that opportunity to enter into the conversation, saying, “Both of you will need to stay. Yamagata will have questions for you with regards to that book you were 'translating'.”

“Neither of us were going to leave yet, Saitou-san,” the elder Ichimura stated, pulling the tattered and half-burnt book out from within the yukata he had been wearing. There was a rather surly look upon the younger Ichimura's face, but for the first time since they had been reunited after the battle at Shiroyama, it was not directed at him. It was directed at the mass of policemen and Yamagata still standing below.

As soon as the dust from the last of the carriages left, it was then that Yamagata and the policemen came aboard the ship. While the stream of policemen were directed by the bearded old man into a different part of the ship where they held the prisoners, Yamagata had stopped before the four of them. The head of the Imperial Army's white uniform gleamed in the weak autumn sun, but even with the clouds overhead, it was still quite a beacon.

“Well done, Lieutenant Fujita and Matsumoto-san,” Yamagata stated before turning his attention to the Ichimura brothers, saying, “Ichimura Tatsunosuke-san, it is good to see you uninjured and in good health. You as well, Ichimura Tetsunosuke-san.”

“Thank you, Yamagata-san, for the concern,” the elder Ichimura stated before handing the ruined book over to the man. “This was the book that Seta Yuna, leader of the Chrysanthemum Guards, had had me translate while I was being held captive. She stated that one of the agents had smuggled it out of the Joseon court. It contains texts in both encrypted Chinese characters and Russian ones. My brother had been working on some of the Russian encryption.”

“She claimed that it came from Joseon's court?”

“Stated, sir, not claimed,” the elder Ichimura insisted as Yamagata opened up and flipped through the first few pages that were annotated between lines of characters into decrypted Japanese. “What I and my brother have done thus far in translating this book speaks more than just claims.”

Yamagata was silent for a few moments as he flipped through towards the end, before looking up and focusing his attention on the younger Ichimura, saying, “When Buruneto-san was here a few months ago, he spoke highly of your skills in languages, Ichimura Tetsunosuke-san. I had no idea that you knew how to speak and read Russian more fluently than English, though he did note that your French was not quite as fluent.”

“Are you here to finally arrest me without Buruneto-san stopping you, or coerce me into working with my brother?” the younger Ichimura spat out. “Because I can assure you that I will not agree to any offers of 'good faith' that you make. I just got pulled into this because you decided _not_ to tell me my brother was captured. I am not my brother and I have no interest in helping you.”

Apart from the glare that the elder Ichimura had immediately pinned upon his brother, neither Saitou or Matsumoto expressed any sort of reaction to the extremely rude outburst However, the smile that appeared on Yamagata's face was odd and quite calculating in Saitou's opinion. “I had no intention of arresting you.”

The younger Ichimura narrowed his eyes slightly but before he could get a word out, the elder Ichimura stepped slightly in front of him, holding out a hand to his side to silence his brother. Ichimura focused his attention on Yamagata, asking, “If you want my continued cooperation in translating the rest of this book, I only ask this one thing of you, please, sir.”

“Go on,” Yamagata said.

“Leave my brother and his family out of everything that happens as a result of actions that you and the government take because of the book and of the Guards.”

“You are only one man, Ichimura Tatsunosuke-san,” Yamgata stated, closing the book.

“They were hunting for my wife and I, and specifically for a lockbox that could compromise them. You know who my wife is and how she came to be my wife. I'm sure Katsura-san told you before he died about the circumstances of how I came to work with him. The Chrysanthemum Guards were hunting for her because of the lockbox and me for my decryption skills, and they didn't give either of us a choice in the matter. I have that choice now, and I am choosing to help you. I will also give you the location of the lockbox, but only if you adhere to my wishes.”

There was a moment of silence before Yamagata nodded, saying, “I agree to your terms, Ichimura-san. As a show of good faith, these officers will escort both you and your brother to the main station. After both of you give Uramura-san your statements, they shall escort you to where your wife and friends are staying.”

“Thank you,” the elder Ichimura stated, bowing slightly before following one of the officers still on the main deck down to the docks. There was still a surly look upon the younger Ichimura's face, but he did not protest and merely followed his brother down the gangway without a word or acknowledgment to Yamagata's offer. Another officer follow the brothers and it was only after the deck was completely cleared except for Yamagata, Matsumoto, and him did the leader of the Imperial Army fully turn his attention to both of them.

“These Chrysanthemum Guards... their leader is a woman?” Yamagata asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.

“Seta Yuna,” Saitou confirmed, leading the way down to the area where they kept the prisoners. “She has a brother and two sisters. Seta Daisuke, Seta Sachiko, and Seta Hikari. Those three practiced Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, but were not masters of the style. The sisters were killed at Hakodate. Daisuke was captured.”

They found the policemen there, peering through the cell bars, along with the old bearded man who was content on standing to the side and letting the police to their work. He pointed out two of the four mentioned and remained silent as he saw Yamagata silently observe the bound and gagged prisoners. However, as the leader of the Imperial Army passed the two and came to a stop in front of two more prisoners who were sitting side-by-side in their own cells, bound and gagged as the other two, he saw him frown.

“Okita Midori and Okita Kiyoshi, sir,” Matsumoto spoke up from beside him. “From what we could determine, they joined the Guards of their own free will shortly after the end of the Boshin War. They are of relation to the late Shinsengumi First Unit Captain, Okita Souji – his niece and nephew.”

The expression upon Yamagata's face did not change, but neither did the man say anything with regards to the fact that he knew that Okita Souji was still alive. Whether it was because there were too many officers around who need not know that another notorious Shinsengumi captain was still alive, or the fact that Yamagata most likely had something more shrewd planned for the two, Saitou didn't know and dared not guess. He, however, knew that unlike more than a few of the Meiji government officials in the past, Yamagata was not a stupid man to pass judgment on a family for their relations' mistakes. The man judged each person individually for the crimes they committed, independent of their relation to prominent people.

However, he did say, “They too were practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, but like Daisuke, Hikari, and Sachiko, were not masters of the style.”

Yamagata merely nodded before moving on to see the fifth and final prisoner, who was sitting shackled, but was not gagged like his compatriots. Instead, the prisoner had placed the mug of medicinal herbal tea down onto the ground and attentively looked up as they approached. “Yamagata Aritomo-sama,” the young man greeted politely.

“Seta Soujirou of the Juppongatana,” Yamagata answered in kind, though his eyes were narrowed slightly and a gleam had appeared in them. “Captured at last.”

“He was among those that had ingested the opiate-laced tea and implanted with commands by the Chrysanthemum Guards,” Matsumoto spoke up. “Yamazaki-sensei has allowed us to attempt to return him to the state he had been in before being turned. Thus far, it has been holding and most of the information that we have obtained have come from him. We've corroborated his story with the account from Ichimura Tatsunosuke's time in captivity as well.”

“As I had told Himura-san and Saitou-san during the time we had been working together to stop the Guards, I will submit myself to arrest after they have been stopped, Yamagata-sama,” the young man stated. “My work has not been completed yet, but you currently have me at quite a disadvantage. Thus, I suppose that I must now submit myself to arrest.”

“You believe yourself to be doing good after all that you have done for Shishio?” Yamagata asked. Neither the tone nor the expression of the Imperial Army commander was incredulous – the question asked was genuinely asked out of curiosity sake.

“I believe myself to be atoning for everything that I had done since I was a child, Yamagata-sama,” the young man answered. “Himura-san told me that I had the rest of my life to find the truth for myself, and I believed that ridding the shadows that the country had produced long ago was a part of that journey.”

“Interesting,” Yamagata stated after a few moments of silence, “and quite an amusing thought.”

Saitou remained where he was as the commander gestured to the policemen to take the other four out of their cells and march them up and out of the ship. It took a few minutes for the clatter of noise to fade but when it did, Yamagata turned to both him and Matsumoto and said, “Please convey the gratitude of the Meiji government to the captain of the ship for his speedy delivery of not only Himura-san and the others, but also of these nefarious people.”

“We will, sir,” Matsumoto stated.

“Since we cannot have any detraction from the main task of capturing and processing the leaders, and high-ranking participants of these Chrysanthemum Guards in the main station, I trust that the two of you will resolve this--” Yamagata gestured to Seta “--discreetly?”

“As you wish,” Saitou said as the edges of his lips tugged up in a satisfied, wolfish smile.

* * *

_Several months later, Late March 1880, Tokyo_

 

It was a familiar sound to Susumu as he slid the outer door open and entered. The sounds of bamboo hitting bamboo, along with the thunder of feet on the wooden floor was something he heard almost every day since he had returned to Tokyo last year. He adjusted the basket of medicine that was in his hand, but rather than this be a regular house visit that he conducted for this particular patient on an almost daily basis, he stepped to the side to allow Tetsu who had accompanied him, to also enter.

Sliding the outer door shut, instead of the usual shout out for a greeting that he did, he instead, continued to walk into the courtyard of the dojo, sensing a familiar presence who was not usually within the dojo. However, ever since the events of last autumn, Aya had stayed in Tokyo, even though she had retained her position and duties as one of Yamagata's special agents.

As for the others, he had seen Saitou around whenever he had been summoned to the main station to help the doctors there adjust the medicinal tea and to see if there was anything else they could do to continue to break down the Chrysanthemum Guards' entrenched hold. However, those times were far and few, since he had clearly stated to Yamagata Aritomo that he had no interest in taking a permanent medical position within the Imperial Army or police force.

He knew not what happened to those captured, and it seemed that Aya did not know either. He suspected that she might have known something, but he wasn't curious enough to pry into it, since no major, public incidents with respect to the Guards had happened. The war against them was now in the shadows, and he had pretty much left that life behind for a while – the incident in Kyoto last summer not withstanding.

For Himura and the others, he had heard that the ex-hitokiri had been healing from his wounds and was once again, adjusting to his new life without the ability to wield his style. He did not exchange information with Dr. Takani or Dr. Gensai, but did not need to, to see that the man was content on living his life in peace once more.

He saw the dojo's doors slide open slightly and saw Aya step out, dressed in a working kimono. He didn't know if it was one that she usually wore around the dojo or house, or if it was a disguise for an assignment around the city that she was about to undertake. He was, however, glad that she was present.

Approaching, she gave both of them a brief smile, saying, “Susumu, Tetsunosuke, it's good to see you both.”

“Aya-nee,” Tetsu answered, smiling as well. Susumu had not heard that affectionate nickname she had picked up while serving in the Shinsengumi for a very long time. It brought a brief smile to his lips.

“Interesting clothing,” she said, gesturing to the strange European clothing that Tetsu wore. “The latest in European fashion, I presume?”

“Yes,” their friend answered, though there was a moment's hesitation before he continued on, saying, “My family, along with Tatsu-nii and his wife are leaving for America today.”

It had been a sudden surprise to him when he had received a letter from Tetsu only a week ago that stated he and his family, along with Tatsunosuke and his wife were going to be staying in Yokohama this week. When his friend had finally arrived, it was then that he found out that the Ichimura family were moving to America for at least a year. For what purposes, Tetsu was surprisingly vague, and even Tatsunosuke, for all of his words, didn't even deign to give a reason. Susumu suspected that it had to do something with the events of last autumn, and that the government had a hand in it. If the government did, he would be quite surprised that Tetsu had even agreed to it. But rather than linger on such a subject, both he and Tetsu had begun discussing the advances in technology and medicine that America had, and what opportunities the family would have there.

“Ah, I see,” Aya said, bringing him back out of his musings as he saw her nod. He briefly wondered if she knew of the Ichimura family's departure to America well before he had found out. Mentally shaking that thought from his mind, he let it go – she was one of Yamagata's agents, and thus even as a friend, he would not be privy to government secrets. “Souji was awake, last I checked, but has not been strong enough all this week to sit up for long. Still... I will take both of you to see him.”

They followed her to where Okita was resting and after a quick peek in, she entered the room, crouching down to whisper to her husband about their arrival. A few moments later, she gestured for the two of them to enter. Susumu set his medicinal basket down to the side as he saw Aya stand back up and shuffle to the side to sit next to him near the entrance. Both he and Aya would have loved to have given Tetsu complete privacy to say his farewell to Okita, but with just how fragile in health Okita was, neither was inclined to leave. They both knew that Tetsu tended to panic whenever Okita started to cough.

The room was quite light and the air was still cool for an early spring day, but Susumu knew that this scene looked so much better than the last time that Okita had been laying on his deathbed. Back then, Edo had surrendered, the Shinsengumi were fleeing, and everyone was evacuating so that almost the entire city was a ghost town. Now, with the lively but faint sounds of those practicing in the dojo, along with the tweeting of songbirds, one could not ask for more life to surround a dying man.

He saw Okita's lips move for a few moments, but could not catch all of the hoarse whisper that the swordsman spoke to Tetsu, who was sitting in seiza by his side. He did see Tetsu shake his head for a moment before hearing an unexpected plea from his friend, “Please live, Okita-san! Please! I'll return in a year! They say that America is a land of opportunity and of advance medicinal sciences. I'll find you a cure. I promise. So please, live!”

The half-smile that appeared on Okita's face was a familiar one to all of them. “You know, Tetsu-kun,” the swordsman said in a slightly stronger, but still hoarse voice, “after that incident at Ikedaya, I told Hijikata-san that you were strong.”

Tetsu mutely nodded, and Susumu could not help but nod as well, but not because his friend was doing the same. It was because just before Tetsu had rejoined the Shinsengumi in their walk back to headquarters, he, Susumu, had stated similar words. He could imagine what the former First Unit Captain was going to say next and he was not disappointed. “Do not despair, Tetsu-kun. Stay strong, for all of us, and I will do the same until you return.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

* * *

_A few years later, Spring 1884, Tokyo_

 

“So about that matter you requested,” Aoshi quietly stated to him as Misao's boisterous voice filled the area with the tales of what had been going on in Kyoto since they had all last met. “I've finished my investigation.”

Both he and Aoshi stepped away from the picnic blanket as the Kyoto spymaster continued to say, “Saitou Hajime is supposedly somewhere in Hokkaido now. Even as a police spymaster, I could not find out the exact nature of the mission he had been assigned. But given what had happened, I would not be surprised if it had something to do with those incidents five years ago.”

Kenshin nodded before saying, “It is good to hear that he is still alive, even though his own life is still fraught with danger.” He glanced up at the blossoms for a moment before looking back down, saying, “I walked past Yamazaki-sensei's clinic the other day. It was closed and looked like it had been shuttered for a while. Did he and Takahashi-dono go up to Hokkaido with Saitou as well?”

Though Aoshi's expression was unreadable, he felt a sense of sadness emanate from him before the man said, “He shuttered his clinic three years ago. It was shortly after Okita Souji died. I know not where he, Reika, Aya, or Yuki are.”

The sadness that wrapped around him for a brief moment was not that of grief but of the fact that a comrade had finally found eternal peace. While he could not count either Saitou or Okita as friends, he counted them as ones that he had trusted to keep people safe. To hear that Okita had succumbed to his illness made him sad, but at least the swordsman no longer had to suffer. He wanted to give his condolences to Okita's family and friends, but refrained from asking Aoshi to continue to look in the matter. That chapter of their lives was now closed and reopening it would just reopen healed wounds.

Instead, he said, “Ah, that explains why Tetsunosuke and his family never returned to Japan after their first year abroad.”

He had never found out the true aftermath of what had happened in Aomori and Hakodate since he had returned to Tokyo. Even his inquiry to Aoshi about what had happened to Seta Yuna, Seta Daisuke, Okita Midori, and Okita Kiyoshi had been met with just a silent shake of Aoshi's head. Aoshi's even more unusual reticent behavior told him that it was better he no longer ask, for the government was determined to keep the knowledge of the Chrysanthemum Guards and what they had done a secret. To continue to ask was to become involved yet again, and he remembered what he had stated to Yamagata that day when the man had asked both him and Okita to help with the search for the children.

As for his master, in the years that had passed since that incident, he and Kaoru had visited him each year they had gone to pray at Tomoe's grave. Neither spoke of the Guards during their visits. With each year that had passed, his master had looked more worn and withdrawn, but surprisingly at peace. Where there had been a caustic edge to his tone whenever talking to him, Kenshin had not heard such an edge since that incident. It seemed that his master had finally found a modicum of peace, as he had in his wanderings and eventual settle of life in Tokyo. He was glad for that.

However, as for the fate of Seta Soujirou, it had surprisingly been Chou who had swung by shortly after Tetsunosuke, Tatsunosuke, and their families had left for America for the first time in 1880, and gave him some news. It seemed that the young man had worked out a deal with the government and had continued to assist those up in Hokkaido. The young man was working with both Anji and Fuji in making the area safe and possibly free from the influence of the Guards.

“It would seem so, though there is little information that I can give you on both Ichimura Tetsunosuke and his brother, along with their families. All I can tell you is that they have permanently settled in America,” Aoshi answered, bringing him out of his musings. “Any correspondences, even personal ones to them must go through the government.”

“Oy! Hey!” they heard Yahiko call out and turned to see the young man walking towards them. Tsubame was walking beside Yahiko, carrying a stack of bento boxes as Yahiko gestured to the boxes, saying, “We brought food from the Akabeko!”

“Aoshi,” Kenshin quietly spoke up as he and the spymaster rejoined the others in the picnic. “Thank you.”

 

_1884 Spring... Japan was still relatively peaceful in the years following the end of the revolution. Ten years later, that would all change with the start of the First Sino-Japanese War._

 

~*~*~*~

 

FINI

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, a humble thank you to all who have read, commented, subscribed, and bookmarked the story and series. It has been a very long journey from the extensive research (and multiple historical research trips to various cities in Japan), to the inception and writing, and finally to the conclusion of the series in general. Second, the reason why I ended Shadows and the series in such a vague manner is because of two things: one, Kenshin and co (in general) stated that they no longer want to be involved, and second, what historically happens in the future.
> 
> Yamagata took their requests to heart and thus excised them from being in the know. Only Saitou, Aya, and Aoshi truly know what happened to the fate of those captured, will not tell their comrades. Historically, in 1894, the war between the Qing Empire and Japan started with the invasion of Japan into Manchuria (and Joseon Empire)... and thus, the climate leading up to this at the moment I ended, is relatively unstable. But Kenshin and the others don't know because of the peaceful cocoon they are living in - I'd like to leave them in that cocoon for a happier ending to the series.
> 
> In other news, I do have a mini-series, tentatively titled: Lost Tales, that touches upon several aspects of the series in general that were mentioned but never completely written. Two of those stories include the Battle of Shiroyama (1877), and a story reuniting the four Shinsengumi shinobi and Saitou on a small adventure (late 1879). Another story that I'm compiling into Lost Tales is the Author's Definitive Edition of Hitokiri Battousai (Part 6 from the Echoes sub-series). It takes all parts from every flashback from other sub-series/stories that takes place during Part 6: Hitokiri Battousai and puts it into one giant story.
> 
> However, because I am quite fatigued from writing such an enormous amount of work for the Peacemaker Kurogane and Rurouni Kenshin fandoms, I'm not sure if I will be working on this mini-series in the near future. So therefore, please consider Shadows as the final story in the Legends of the Revolution series. Thank you all for reading and traveling on a journey to Japan back in time with me.


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